


A Human Thing

by Xirayn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Demisexual Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, F/M, Female Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Female/Fluid Pronouns for Lance, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderfluid Lance (Voltron), Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mostly and weirdly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xirayn/pseuds/Xirayn
Summary: Lance comes through a wormhole as a woman. It doesn't change much.aka Lance is gender fluid so getting gender bent by space magic only presents one problem, which turns out not to be Keith.“Lance, can we just talk? After that you can go back to avoiding me.”Lance scoffed even as her eyes remained stubbornly forward. “I’m not avoiding you.”“Then what are you doing?” That earned him a glare, which would have been annoying if not for how happy Keith was to have her looking at him again.“I’m being a good partner and giving you space while I'm not your type.”Keith crossed his arms and met her eyes with a glare of his own, brow furrowed and lips a tight line. “Not my type?”Lance let out a long sigh of exasperation. “Female, Keith. I don't want you to feel like you have to force yourself to be attracted to women just because your boyfriend currently is one.”





	1. Lance the Human

**Author's Note:**

> I'm looking for ideas for scenes to maybe try and draw out or implied/possible scenes to do drabbles for just to help keep me creating. Comment or message me what you'd like to see.
> 
> Character Ages  
> Keith-21  
> Lance & Hunk-20  
> Pidge-16  
> Shiro-26  
> Allura-Altean equivalent to early twenties  
> Coran-Altean equivalent to mid-forties
> 
> I see the Garrison as a military academy so it makes sense to me that everyone (aside from Pidge since she forged her identity) is over 18. These ages reflect that and that the story taking place after where the show currently is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets outed twice, first as gender fluid and then as being in a relationship with Keith. Neither time is as big of a deal as expected.
> 
> _“This is on her top five list of ‘weird things I would be ok with happening’,” Hunk said as he took a step back and eagerly waited for Allura to take a bite. His focus caused him to miss the stern glare Shiro shot him from his seat to the right of Allura._  
>  _“Hunk,” Shiro stated in a strong and steady tone that clearly conveyed his disappointment, “just because Lance is currently biologically female does not make him any less of a man.”_  
>  _Hunk held up his hands with a nervous glance at Lance. “Hey, I’m just going with what I was told.”_

The feeling of vertigo pulled Lance’s stomach into his throat as he exited the wormhole. Fortunately it was fleeting, and a quick glance around the cockpit didn’t show anything out of place. He scanned the translucent blue screens in search of any abnormal readings to explain the phenomenon. When nothing showed, he dismissed the feeling as he piloted the Blue Lion toward the castle where the bay doors were already opening for him.

“Be careful landing,” Coran warned over the commlink. “Merdine technology is very fickle out of water.”

“Relax, I know-” Lance’s mouth snapped shut at the sound of a voice that was definitely not his. He quickly yanked his helmet off to use the visor to inspect himself. The reflection that stared back at him was a face he knew even if he had never actually seen it.

“Lance, is there someone with you?”

“Uh, no.” The Blue Paladin put her helmet back on. With a flick of her wrist she established a video connection. At first Coran did not notice the shift in features, but Lance saw the exact moment he did in the widening of his eyes. “You might want to gather the team.”

* * *

“You are taking this incredibly well, Lance.” Allura’s voice was oddly breathy, with a higher pitch that would have been soothing if not for the knowledge it had been brought on by illness. Even short sentences were punctuated with a wince of pain that had Coran giving her that pointed look only a parental figure could give. “I am truly sorry.”

Any response on Lance’s tongue was interrupted by Hunk’s laugh as he approached the table. Steam wafted off a large bowl he placed in front of the princess. He had spent hours trying to replicate his mother’s saimin recipe, and while the look was off with vibrant pink broth and green noodles, the flavor was mostly there.

“This is on her top five list of ‘weird things I would be ok with happening’,” Hunk said as he took a step back and eagerly waited for Allura to take a bite. His focus caused him to miss the stern glare Shiro shot him from his seat to the right of Allura.

“Hunk,” Shiro stated in a strong and steady tone that clearly conveyed his disappointment, “just because Lance is currently biologically female does not make him any less of a man.”

Hunk held up his hands with a nervous glance at Lance. “Hey, I’m just going with what I was told.”

“Lance has pecs; Macy has breasts,” Pidge informed the team with a nod as if reciting some well known rule.

“Macy?” Keith raised an eyebrow at the Blue Paladin seated across the chair he was leaning against. “And when do you have breasts?”

“Not real ones,” Lance rolled her eyes in hopes the banter would reclaim some sense of normalcy from the situation.  “It’s called drag, Keith. Well, not like drag queen drag, but sometimes I just feel like a woman, ok?”

Keith shrugged. “Ok, but Macy?”

“It’s a pun,” Pidge pointed out. “Lances and maces are both weapons.”

“Of course it is.” The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched with the start of a fond smile that made Lance's heart race a few beats faster. 

Their eyes met and Lance waited for the questions laden with microaggressions that experience told her to expect. Even Hunk had rattled off questions that had sometimes made Lance internally wince when he had first found out. They had been younger then, though, and Hunk had always been the type of person who wanted to strip things down in order to understand them. There was no follow up from Keith, however, and Lance gladly took the opportunity to look away when Shiro addressed her.

“Should we call you Macy?” the Black Paladin asked. His tone had lost the hard edge it had possessed while correcting Hunk in favor of something that conveyed nothing but support. He knew it was stressful for his team to be far from home acting as the legendary defenders of the universe, and there was no reason to let miscommunications derived from lack of clarification add to that. It was particularly pointless when that clarification was as simple as asking someone what they would like to be called.

“Nah, Lance is fine.” Relief eased some of the tension in Lance’s posture, though her shoulders stayed tight and her eyes continually flicked from Shiro to Keith. “The name was more to not out myself since Lance hasn’t really made the jump to gender neutral like Riley or Cameron, but Hunk is right about the pronouns. It, uh,” her voice dropped along with her eyes, “it helps with the gender dysphoria.”

“Humans really are fascinating!” Coran mused with a tweak of his mustache. “No shapeshifting abilities at all yet you are quite adaptable as a species. It reminds me of--” 

“Hunk.” Any rant Coran was about to launch into was mercifully stopped by Allura. “This is wonderful. You said it was your mother’s recipe?” A wince of pain had Coran fussing over the princess like a doting nanny, gently insisting she stop speaking in the process.

Hunk’s face lit up at the compliment as well as the opportunity to talk about one of his favorite subjects. “Yeah, she sent it with me to the Garrison. The real trick was-”

Everyone’s attention turned to Hunk as he enthusiastically talked about his troubles adapting the recipe and the history behind it. The more he spoke, the more Lance relaxed, until soon it felt like almost nothing had changed at all.

* * *

Lance bounced her heels off the exam table as she tried to decipher the information that scrolled over the screens in front of Coran. It was in Altean, mostly acronyms that were meaningless to her, with various lines and bars that moved as they read her vitals. Correlation identified heart and respiratory rate, but nothing else made much sense. She huffed a sigh and flopped back. The sensor just below her clavicle itched and the pulse oximeter clamped on her middle finger was slowly driving her insane, but at least they had confirmed Allura’s illness corrupting the wormhole was the cause of her change, and not some unknown space magic.

“So I have good news,” Coran said, finally turning away from the screens. He waited for Lance to pop back into a seated position to continue. “According to everything we have from your last few physicals and time in the healing pods, you are completely healthy.”

Lance eyed him skeptically. “And the bad news?”

“Well, there isn’t really any bad news.” Coran considered the possibilities while twirling the corner of his mustache. “You are roughly three attoparsecs shorter so I suppose you are now number four, but that doesn't really qualify as bad news.”

“Wait, I’m shorter than Keith now?”

Coran nodded. “His Galra genes made that inevitable, honestly. Kolivan predicts he should have a growth spurt coming in the next few years as they become more dominant, though with the amount of quintessence that boy has been hit with it may be sooner.”

Any questions Lance had about that new bit of information were cut off by Allura’s arrival. She was followed closely by Pidge, who could just barely see over the box in her arms. She unceremoniously dropped it beside the exam table.

“We bring gifts,” Pidge announced. “Of the hand me down variety.”

“Aw, my favorite.” Lance peered at the box as Pidge obligingly opened it to reveal an array of fabrics, mostly in shades of blue. 

There was a special place in Lance's heart for hand me downs, especially now that her father's jacket, which had come to her through her brother, was the only physical thing she had of her family. Allura looked less enthused by the term, however, as she raised her perfectly manicured fingers to lightly touch her throat. 

“They are not hand me downs,” she said in an artificial version of her natural voice. The bangle on her wrist lit up with each syllable as it spoke for her. “They are reserves, as well as some articles from my wardrobe that I have never worn.”

“Oo, princess hand me downs.” Lance took what seemed to be a navy blue scrap of cloth from Pidge. Holding it up it looked like a strapless bra with thin ribbons crossing at the top of the cups and around the back. “Fancy.”

“Alteans make the best bras,” Pidge explained. There was the slightest swoon in her voice that was usually reserved for technology. “They use the same material as our Paladin suits so they adapt to the wearer and don’t ride up or anything like that. Oh, and here’s the best part.” She took the bra from Lance and pulled one of the ribbons to alter the entire cup. “Completely adjustable. I threw in one of the heavy duty ones that can act as a binder as well. You know, just in case.”

“That’s really great, Pidge. Thanks.” She smiled at the younger Paladin who had become like a sibling to her before turning to Allura. “Both of you.” She knew they had their differences, since Pidge’s bluntness often clashed with Princess Allura’s decorum, so it meant a lot that they had collaborated on this for her. “And Coran for making sure I’m not going to die.”

A shadow passed over Coran’s face that disappeared before Lance was even sure it was there. His usual jovial expression was back in place as he removed the oximeter and sensors. “Don’t mention it, my dear. Now go get some rest. You too, Princess. We need you completely healthy before we even begin to think about using the teladuv again.”

Lance rubbed her fingers over where the removal of the sensor had pulled at her skin. The thought of being female until Allura was healthy wasn’t concerning, there was really only one problem that she could think of, but not having the teladuv certainly was. “So what do we do if we need to make a quick getaway?”

Pidge adjusted her glasses and shifted her weight in signal of an explanation full of words only Hunk and Coran understood. “We rerouted the resonance of the Balmeran crystal in order to amplify the pulse matrix of the infracells. That increased the rapid fire acceleration of the thrusters so-”

“Pidge, I speak four languages and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t any of them.”

“We enhanced the castle to go faster than almost any ship that could challenge it in a fight,” Pidge replied. From her tone she was none too happy about having to simplify her techno-babble.

A crease formed in Allura’s brow. The expression was almost enough to impart a worried inflection onto the artificial voice of her bangle. “Is this like when you modified the shuttles?”

Pidge shrank a little at that. She was all too aware how her modification had gotten Allura and Keith ejected into space from an exploding shuttle. “No. Hunk helped and Coran checked everything out so, you know, no exploding.”

“Well, that’s good.” Lance shot the princess a wink. “Can’t have a universe without your gorgeous face in it.”

* * *

A few quintants passed before Keith was able to catch Lance on the observation deck. It had become their spot during Shiro’s absence; first as friends and then as more. It was the memory of their first kiss after a somewhat fumbled confession that kept Keith patient as Lance gave excuse after excuse to avoid him. At first he had thought it was in his head, but after Lance had literally dodged into her room when she saw Keith coming down the hall he was pretty sure his paranoia was justified. So he started to try and find her in their spot because if she was there then maybe that meant she was ready to talk.

When he finally did find her he took a moment to just watch her. The desire to not make her uncomfortable had kept him from really looking at how she had changed. Broad shoulders and narrow hips had been replaced with curves that were almost completely lost beneath Lance’s usual clothing. Her hair was still short, of course, but she pushed it back and kept it a bit tousled so that it better fit the softened lines of her face. She was also shorter than Keith now, which he noted with a bit of satisfaction.

“Find the Milky Way, yet?” he asked as he came up beside her. Lance turned to look at him and the moment he caught her blue eyes his heart twisted. In that moment he knew that no amount of physical changes would change how he felt.

“Oh, hey.” She directed her attention back to the vastness of space. “Not yet.” Keith hated the avoidance of it as well as the way she had tensed. He hated being the cause of it even more.

“Lance, can we just talk? After that you can go back to avoiding me.”

Lance scoffed even as her eyes remained stubbornly forward. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Then what are you doing?” That earned him a glare, which would have been annoying if not for how happy Keith was to have her looking at him again.

“I’m being a good partner and giving you space while I'm not your type.”

Keith crossed his arms and met her eyes with a glare of his own, brow furrowed and lips a tight line. “Not my type?”

Lance let out a long sigh of exasperation. “Female, Keith. I don't want you to feel like you have to force yourself to be attracted to women just because your boyfriend currently is one.”

“Oh.” Memories of a throw away comment about never being into the women at the Garrison as well as repeated indifferent responses to the many women Lance would talk about surfaced. He should have known Lance was avoiding him due to some assumption based off of random observations. “That’s a terrible reason to be avoiding me, Lance.” 

“No,” Lance stated, “it's an incredibly good and thoughtful reason.”

“No, it’s not,” Keith countered. “For starters, even if I wasn’t attracted to you, I’d still want to spend time with you. I’m attracted to you, though, not your gender.”

The scowl in Lance's face instantly dissolved. Cautious curiosity took its place as she studied him. “So you're demisexual?”

“I guess so.” Keith shrugged and unlocked his arms to run his fingers through his hair. “That's the one where you're only attracted to people you’ve got an emotional connection to, right?” Keith had never been the type to interact with people long enough to learn his labels. They never seemed to have a point to him. They were just another box for society to try and shove him into.

Lance nodded. A thought struck and realization lit up her face. “That's why you were so upset about our 'bonding moment’.” 

“That happened.” Keith grabbed the hands that had come up to create air quotes. He used the hold to pull her against him, relishing in having her close again. “I cradled you in my arms.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile that Keith was helpless against. “So, you think my personality is sexy?”

“For some reason,” he responded before brushing his lips against hers. Physically she felt different, but her touch still tingled and made his heart float up into his throat. “Seriously, Lance, you could be an Arusian and I would still want to be with you.”

“So, I’m not sure if that ruins the moment or is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, but we could have been making out this entire time so I’m pretty sure I don't really care.” 

Lance brought his mouth back to hers with a firm hand on the back of his neck. Her fingers curled into his hair as her persistent tongue parted his lips to taste him and consume him and be consumed herself. She had always been the better kisser, but what Keith lacked in experience he made up for in intensity. He kissed the breath out of her and she always happily gave it to him. 

“Lo siento,” Lance murmured when they parted, though she stayed near enough that their noses brushed. “I should have talked to you.”

A content hum reverberated low in Keith's throat. “You should have,” he agreed. “Doesn't matter now, though.”

He kissed her again, just letting their lips fit together for a tick. Then a second time. A third followed that melted into a coil of heat that burned low and slow. They could talk more later. Right now there were new things to explore and old things to revisit.

* * *

Allura had gotten worse before she had started to get better. She’d been bedridden for several quintants and unable to eat anything but broth and food goo, but eventually the color returned to her cheeks and she no longer needed an artificial voice to speak for her. Coran still insisted that she be completely healthy, and that an excessive amount of tests be done before sending Lance through any wormholes though, and for her part, Lance was fine with waiting. She had no desire to discover what else could happen. There was also a total of six people she interacted with on a regularly basis and none of them were treating her any differently aside from how she had requested. Plus, she was enjoying the opportunity to experience a biologically female body. Except, of course, when she really wasn’t.

“No! This isn’t possible!” Lance strained against gravity, willing her fatigued muscles to pull her up towards the horizontal bar she was hanging from. Not even kicking her legs got her any closer to her goal. “I can’t not be able to do more pull ups than Keith.”

“I could hold your feet,” Hunk offered, from his place on the weight bench. It was technically a rest day, but Hunk had convinced Lance and, somehow, Pidge to join him for his daily workout. His suggestion was shot down by a look of contempt thrown lazily in his direction.

“Pidge could stop recording,” Lance grumbled as she turned her attention back to the bar. She glared at it as if her own mental will could conquer it. 

“What? I need to get my comedy where I can out here.” Pidge held her phone steady, watching the screen as she occasionally sipped a water pouch. Her amber eyes sparkled with laughter at the raspberry Lance blew in her direction. “Man, I wish we had social media in space. I would get so many likes for this.”

“And comments about my butt,” Lance muttered. After a steady exhale she managed to get halfway to completing her seventh pull up before her arms gave up entirely and she fell onto the mat. Fortunately she managed to stay on her feet. “I’ll just have to remain the brains of the operation.”

“Really?” The question was asked in unison and earned a huff of annoyance as Lance turned to her friends. 

“Hunk, I would expect such doubt from Pidge, but et tu? I’ve beaten both Shiro and Coran at space chess. Multiple times!”

Hunk had the decency to look embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ok, yeah, fair enough. It’s just that some of your ideas are really ridiculous, you know? Like remember when you tried to kick that energy orb?”

“That would have been epic if it had worked,” Lance grumbled. She laced her fingers together and pressed her palms outwards to stretch her upper back. “Anyway, legs are for kicking. The best sport in the world is based on that one simple concept.”

“You know I’m a rugby guy.”

Lance lifted her hands upward, keeping her fingers interlocked. “Fair enough.”

“Ugh, sports.” Pidge had lowered her phone just after Lance had fallen and was now tapping away at the screen. If Lance hadn’t known better, she would suspect the teen was actually uploading the video somewhere.

Behind them came the soft whoosh of the door that signaled Keith’s arrival. Judging by the heavy rise and fall of his chest and his sweat soaked shirt, he had tried a higher level on the gladiator. There was a running theory that he was trying to get to a higher level than Shiro,which he flatly refused to acknowledge.

Pidge looked up from her phone at the new arrival. “Am I right, Keith?”

The Red Paladin glanced at Pidge. He shrugged before grabbing a water pouch from the case in the corner. “I don’t know, probably. What are y’all talking about?”

“Sports,” Lance supplied. She sauntered closer to him, trying to subtly maneuver herself in between Keith and Pidge to avert any attempts at sharing the video of her struggle. “Please tell me you agree that futbol is the greatest sport ever played.”

“Sure, go Cowboys.” He took the straw between his lips before noticing three sets of eyes fixed on him with a mix of shock and, in Lance’s case, disgust. “What?”

“Football, Keith? American ‘your feet don’t actually touch the ball’ football?” Lance threw her hands in the air. A tumble of Spanish fell from her lips. No one had the fluency to keep up with her rant, but the ‘estupido Americano’ was fairly difficult to miss.

“So you meant soc…”

Lance rounded on Keith with an accusatory finger pointed in his face. “Don’t use that word in my presence.”

“Fine, I won't.” Keith pushed the hand away. “What are you doing in here, anyway? We don't have training today.”

“Watching Lance have a crisis,” Pidge chirped, ignoring the muttered ‘little gremlin’ behind her as she popped up between Keith and Lance. Her phone was held high to give the Red Paladin a clear view as she pressed play. Keith’s expression remained unreadable for the length of the video. 

“She has beaten Shiro and Coran at space chess,” he finally answered after the video had stopped with Lance declaring herself the brains of the operation.

“Thank you.” Lance looked over her shoulder at Hunk with a smug grin before turning back to Keith. “You are almost forgiven.”

Even though they had been together for a few months, Keith and Lance had decided to keep their relationship to themselves. It was still difficult for Keith to hide the fondness in the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He secretly, or maybe not so secretly, loved to rile Lance up. The passion that simmered behind those blue eyes was extremely attractive as was the tenacity in which she rose to any challenge he threw at her.

“So how many pull ups did you do?” He laid the bait out fully aware she would take it. 

“Eat me, Mullet.” Lance immediately regretted her choice of words when Keith took a slow sip from his water pouch. His eyes dragged over her and she could feel her face flush until even the tips of her ears felt warm. “You are un-almost forgiven.”

“I’ll live,” Keith drawled. The hints of a lazy accent played on his words just enough to cause Lance’s knees to go a little weak. It also lit a fire that had her vowing that she was not letting him win this one. In one fluid motion she swept Pidge aside and stepped into the Red Paladin’s face. 

“That’s it, Keith. Let’s go. Right now. Mano a me.”

The tension between them pulled taut, played expertly by Lance as she lifted her chin with just enough of a tilt to emphasize the curve of her neck. She knew Keith’s buttons and was not above pressing them for the sake of winning whatever imaginary game they were playing. Her cocky grin dripped with satisfaction when she caught Keith biting his bottom lip for just a moment as his eyes flicked down. If not for their audience she would have pressed her advantage until the tension snapped into a tangle of limbs and tongues.

“I bet you half my next planetside stipend they kiss,” Pidge mock whispered to Hunk, effectively breaking the moment as both Lance and Keith’s attention snapped to their fellow Paladins.

Hunk scratched his jaw. “Are we still pretending they aren't together?” 

Lance let out a derisive laugh in an attempt to cover up being found out. Even as she did, however, she knew the way Keith bristled gave Hunk all of the confirmation that he needed. One look had her giving up the act in favor of shaking her head and tsking at Hunk in disappointment.

“What?” Hunk looked at Pidge only to realize he’d let something big slip when he noticed her jaw nearly on the floor. He turned back to Lance. “We regularly do a literal mind meld to form a giant robot and we’re best buds; I know when something is up. Also, Keith oogles you, like, a lot.”

“I do not,” Keith grumbled. 

“Uh, yeah, you do. Sorry, buddy, but you aren’t really good at being subtle.” The yellow Paladin rubbed the back of his neck and took great interest in the weights stacked against the wall to his right. “I mean, if it helps I don’t think anyone else knows? Lance is pretty sneaky so everyone else probably just thinks that you’re pining really hard.

“Great.” Keith’s mind immediately went to all the times Shiro or Allura had paired him with Lance. He had thought it was just to get them to work together and show that they really were a good team. This new information painted all of that in a new light. There was even that time Allura had just happened to mention the pool to both of them. Keith still wasn’t convinced the elevator had simply malfunctioned.

“Wait, this is actually a thing?” Pidge’s shock and excitement bubbled over into a delighted cackle. “How did I not know?”

“Because it wasn’t taking place in any form of computer code,” Hunk pointed out.

“Code is just so much more interesting.” Pidge sighed wistfully and no one was sure she wasn't fantasizing about a code based drama. An idea suddenly struck her, causing her face to light up. “Can I be the one to tell Shiro?”

“No,” Keith snapped. “No one is telling anyone anything.”

Lance fit herself against Keith’s side since there wasn't a reason to maintain the distance between them anymore. Her hand found the hair that curled behind his ear and she idly played with it to ease his hostility. A wave of affection washed over her when he relaxed into her touch.

“What I think Keith is trying to say,” she said in the same tone she used when her niece wasn’t quite able to express herself over her frustrations, “is that your discretion is appreciated, and we know where you sleep. Also, Hunk should apologize for being nosy.”

“Hey! I'm not nosy.” Hunk crossed his arms with a comical pout. “I’m just observant and naturally curious.”

“You looked in my head hole, man.”

“And you read my diary that one time,” Pidge added, “after looking through my stuff… Not to mention when you looked in my head hole.”

Hunk deflated. “Ok, maybe I’m a little nosy. Sorry”

“Aw, it’s ok big guy. Just don’t tell anyone, either of you. Otherwise I'll have to see how sickeningly cute Keith will let me be in front of you.” Lance locked eyes with Pidge, a falsely sweet smile plastered on her face. She knew that Hunk blabbing wasn’t an issue now that he had been called out. Pidge was a bit of a wild card, however.

“Ew, ok.” Pidge wrinkled her nose. It was the same look she gave when Lance had tried to include her in guy talk back at the Garrison. Even something as innocent as getting a kiss at the end of a date had gotten that look. It was consistent enough that Lance theorized that Pidge was asexual, or possibly tenchosexual with how she fawned over tech, but that hardly mattered. Ultimately, Lance had just filed away the information like she had her sister’s aversion to knuckles being cracked.

Lance leaned into Keith and nuzzled the delicate skin just under the curve of his jaw. It was partially to show how serious her threat was and partially because she could. She immediately regretted the decision as the pungent odor of sweat assaulted her. 

“Dude, you stink.” Her complaint was made a lot less serious by her turning to wrap her arms around his waist.

“You’re the one draped over me.” Keith sounded annoyed, but Lance knew better. If he was actually annoyed he would simply disentangle himself. 

“And you’re welcome for that.” Lance kissed the corner of Keith’s mouth and nearly burst into laughter at the sound that came from Pidge.

“You brought this evil on me, Hunk,” Pidge grouched to the engineer. “You took Pandora’s Box and just- ‘pop’- opened it right up.”

Lance found Pidge later and asked if the physical affection really bothered her. She wanted to tease the younger Paladin, not alienate her. The question was met with a shrug and quip about keeping it family friendly. So the next time it was just the four of them in the common room Lance took the opportunity to lean against Keith. He adjusted so that is arm was around her and neither Hunk nor Pidge looked up from their video game. Lance relaxed into the normality of the moment and for just a little while it almost felt like being back on Earth.


	2. Lance and Keith, Side by Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith need each other in more ways than they'll admit, Shiro catches Keith coming out of Lance's room, and Hunk continues to be a culinary genius.
> 
> _“So,” the Black Paladin started, “let me guess, you and Lance just fell asleep talking.”_  
>  _Keith silently cursed himself. He didn’t know how he wanted to have this conversation, but this was certainly not it. First of all, he would much prefer that Lance be there to do the talking. She had tact, even if it wasn’t always utilized. Keith pretty much just relied on blunt honesty._  
>  _“Technically, yes.” He settled into the familiarity of crossed arms and spring-tight muscles that signaled his metaphorical heels digging into the dirt. “After having sex.”_

Piloting the Red Lion always left Lance chasing the high of adrenaline, her fingers twitching and leg bouncing as Shiro debriefed Keith and Pidge. Lance wasn’t even sure piloting was the right word. The semblance of control was tentative at best, reminding Lance of catching a wave as it roared towards the shore with only skill and the willingness to go along for the ride preventing a devastating crash. Remnants of adrenaline from the rush were still dripped through her veins when everyone retired for the night.

They had skirmished with a Galra fleet while following a lead from Kolivan on a prototype weapon. With Lance piloting the Red Lion and Allura the Blue, the battle had been enough of a distraction that Pidge and Keith were able to sneak onto the cruiser the fleet was protecting. Everything was going as planned until they were discovered by a druid and their sentinel guard. Keith covered their escape to where the Green Lion was clinging to the ship’s hull in stealth, but not without injury as a bolt of corrupted quintessence tore through his shoulder. Lance had felt it through the bond they shared with the Red Lion and been more than happy to go along with the urge to destroy any threats to theirs. They pounced, rending metal with teeth and claws in a relentless attack. It was only when the Green Lion with her pilot and passenger had escaped that they released their victim.

The threat of Voltron along with the damage to the cruiser had the fleet retreating. The suddenness left everyone uneasy, but they had what they needed and were alive. They would probably be alive tomorrow as well, and the day after that, but that wasn't something to take for granted out here. So when they were outside of Lance's room she grabbed Keith's wrist and pulled him inside to ease the adrenaline and assure herself that he was still with her.

There was no hesitation once the door was closed, just lips pressing together as fingers twisted into fabric. Lance pushed Keith towards the bed and he eagerly obliged. Soon she was over him, using her advantage to assault his mouth while he countered with fingers dragging over her back and shoulders. She sat up when the heat became too much.

Their eyes locked and she was hit with the realization that while the makeout sessions like silent arguments were fun, it was everything else that mattered. It was the bubbles of happiness at his laugh and the stab of pain that came with seeing him hurt. It was smiles exchanged like secrets and looks that held entire conversations. It was knowing the difference between Keith’s helmet hair and his bed head, the tickle of calloused fingers on soft skin and playful quips about morning breath. Mostly, it was three little words that drifted unsaid between them.

“I want you.” Those weren’t the words, but they were the closest she could get at the moment.

“Yeah?” Keith ran the pad of his thumb over her kiss swollen lips.

“Yeah.” She rocked her hips against his, enjoying the way the movement caused his breath to catch in his throat. Her hand came up to hold his his against her cheek as she nuzzled his palm. “I even had a really embarrassing conversation with Coran about protection.”

“Seriously?” Keith’s laugh was swallowed by Lance taking his lips and occupying his tongue.

It wasn’t long before the desperate need for each other returned in a buildup of heat that had Lance pulling at Keith’s shirt. She drank in every inch of skin revealed when he followed her silent request, but the hunger quickly turned to concern when his shirt was finally cast aside. She reached out and Keith looked down to watch her fingers skirt over the jagged blossoms of purple skin that had formed where the druid had hit him. He hadn’t even realized the marks were still there, since any pain had long subsided.

“Well I, for one, welcome my new Galra boyfriend.” Her forced tone was something Keith had heard far too many times. It usually accompanied the false bravado and one liners that were as natural to Lance as swimming. The thing was, Keith had developed a knack for knowing when she was really just trying not to drown.

He sat up so that he could cup her jaw and press a tender, reassuring kiss to her lips. The unspoken words in the gesture were enough to choke on.

“Talk to me, Lance.” He rested his forehead against hers and their breaths mingled in hot puffs of air. “What’s wrong?”

The stretch of silence as she traced the lines where purple blurred into pale was amplified by the hum of the castle. When she finally did speak, her words were heavy, as if they should be said at an intervention after ‘we care about you’ and accompanied by pained, imploring eyes.

“You’re getting reckless again.”

Keith distanced himself from her by letting his hands fall to the bed behind him as he leaned back. His gaze wandered to the phone filled with memories of things he had never had that rested on her desk. “Shiro is back,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, “the team doesn’t need me to lead anymore.”

“But we still need _you_. We’ve always needed you.” Her hand moved from his chest up to his jaw in order to turn his face back towards her. “I’ve always needed you.”

The words exposed a truth so raw that it was almost painful to say. There was no denying that truth, though. Even back at the Garrison when Keith didn’t even know Lance's name, back to when he had first wondered if that haircut was a mullet or a shag that was just too long in the back, he had needed Keith. He needed him as a rival, someone to drive him who wouldn’t care if he failed and needlessly loathe to keep him from loathing himself. Then they had found the Blue Lion and become Paladins of Voltron and that need had become so much more. Their forced partnership forged them so that their strengths covered the other’s weaknesses. Without Keith, Lance wasn’t sure what he would be other than less than what he- she- was now.

“I’m not used to being needed,” Keith admitted after a heavy swallow, “of needing someone. Not like I need you.”

Lance’s gaze hardened as she pinned him with a glare that cracked at the edges under the pressure of fears and doubts barely held at bay.

“Then stop acting like you’re expendable or invincible or whatever complex is making you face danger like it doesn’t matter; like I don’t matter.” The words tumbled out of her mouth to hang in the air between them. They soaked into Keith with a realization that had him seeing just how deep those cracks at the edge of her glare were.

“You do matter,” he hastily insisted while gathering her to him like the vacuum of space was trying to drag her away again. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck so that his senses were flooded with her.

“I didn’t think...” he mumbled against her skin only to have the thought derailed. He placed a light kiss on the skin under by his lips. “I guess that’s the problem: I don’t think.”

“Definitely part of it.” She carded her fingers through his hair. The acknowledgement was enough for her, especially when it had melted the desire into something that ached for satisfaction so much more than the adrenaline fueled lust. It made her aware of not only every place their bodies touched and his hips so close to hers, but also the groove he had worn into her psyche.

“Maybe it’s a Galra thing.”

Lance pushed him back until he hit the mattress. “Maybe it’s a human thing.” She leaned over him so that she could kiss the skin behind the curve of his jaw before playfully nipping his ear lobe, “or a Keith thing.”

Keith took in a shuddering breath. His fingers traced down Lance’s spine, just to the left of her vertebra in the way that made Lance shiver. “Might be a Keith thing,” he agreed.

“Mmm…” She sat up, curling her fingers around his wrists to guide his hands to her hips. Deep conversations could wait. “Want to do a Lance thing?”

* * *

Keith secretly loved that he knew Lance talked in her sleep. The snippets of dreams were ultimately meaningless, but he still collected them like shells scattered on a beach. His favorite were the Spanglish ones that vaguely reminded him of trips to town with his father on hot Texas days when they would stop at the corner store for a Dr Pepper. The woman behind the counter went between English and Spanish, sometimes slipping Keith a shard of pecan brittle with a smile and a wink.

"But Mamá, I don’t know how to condense leche,” Lance mumbled. She snuggled closer and even with his arm numb under her weight it felt like home in a way few things had in a long time. The feeling caused a truth to catch in his mind. It was not a new truth, just one that never got said aloud. Words had never been his specialty, anyway.

Restlessness finally settled in enough that he freed his arm with a gentle prod and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment he just stayed there, studying the purple that still marred his skin. It had lightened so that it might be mistaken as the remnants of a bruise if he hadn’t known otherwise. The recurring apprehension that accompanied reminders of his alien heritage rose like bile in his throat until he hastily gathered his clothing. With the marks covered he could at least pretend to be fully human.

The door hissed closed behind him as he stepped out into the hallway and right into Shiro. For a moment they both looked surprised, but then something clicked into place in Shiro’s mind. It manifested in the form of a teasing smirk.

“So,” the Black Paladin started, “let me guess, you and Lance just fell asleep talking.”

Keith silently cursed himself. He didn’t know how he wanted to have this conversation, but this was certainly not it. First of all, he would much prefer that Lance be there to do the talking. She had tact, even if it wasn’t always utilized. Keith pretty much just relied on blunt honesty.

“Technically, yes.” He settled into the familiarity of crossed arms and spring-tight muscles that signaled his metaphorical heels digging into the dirt. “After having sex.”

The smile fell into something that was a mix of disapproval and disappointment as Shiro’s brow pinched and he matched Keith’s stance.

“Keith, I know Lance is probably interested in… experiencing that aspect of a female body, but I don’t think it’s a wise decision to indulge her.” There was a loaded silence as their eyes locked before Shiro added, “Or yourself.”

“There is so much wrong with that sentence,” Keith muttered. The underlying assumptions in the thought did not sit well with the truth.

“I’m just trying to caution against letting your feelings impair your judgement,” Shiro continued. “I see how you look at Lance”

“Probably because we’ve been together since before you returned,” Keith stated in the interest of saving himself from the conversation’s current direction. He knew it would just lead to more questions, but at least he wouldn’t have to stand here as one of the most important people in his life misinterpreted his relationship. “And yes, we use protection.”

The information stunned Shiro just long enough for Keith to be able to push past him and head for the training room. Part of him desperately wanted to simply go back to Lance’s room so that he could hide with her in her blanket cocoon, but another wanted to draw Shiro and any conflict away from his partner.

“Wait up.” Shiro quickly covered the few paces needed to catch up to Keith. “You can’t just say that and then walk away, Keith. Why haven’t either of you said anything?”

“Because we wanted a chance to figure out things without it being about Voltron. We know all the issues this could cause, but we’ve agreed to handle anything that comes up like adults.”

“That’s very mature of you.” The skepticism leaked into Shiro’s voice and Keith instinctively knew the look of doubt he was receiving.

“You don't think we could do it,” Keith huffed.

“No, no. I think you could if needed. Past behavior just makes me skeptical.”

“Yeah, well, you of all people should know how a situation makes a person grow up.” He stopped walking upon hearing his own words. It was true they had all had experiences that forced them to mature, but only Shiro had been tortured by the Galra. The thought made his skin itch where he knew it was still purple. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

Shiro dismissed the apology with quick shrug. “It’s alright, I know what you meant.”

An easy grin curved his mouth and it reminded Keith of a time before, when Shiro had first became the closest thing Keith had to family.

“So,” the taller Paladin practically sing-songed, “have you figured things out?”

Keith could not stop the beginnings of a smile that softened his face as he remembered the wordless things said with lips and tongues. They should probably say them anyway, for the formality of it if nothing else, but they wouldn't mean more than the exchanged looks that felt like free falling or the well worn grooves where the other fit perfectly.

“Yeah,” he replied easily, “I think we have.”

There was the briefest moment of astonishment on Shiro’s face before his smile returned with the sudden brightness of blinds being drawn at noon. When Keith had arrived at the Shiroganes’ as a foster child he had been a disaffected youth hardened by being passed off too many times. The first day at school he had gotten into a fight and Shiro had come home to find Keith shoving what belongings he had into a garbage bag. It was the resignation in the act that made Shiro invite him to the dojo where he trained. Keith had taken to martial arts almost alarmingly quick, which made sense in retrospect. Opening up was something else entirely, though, so to see the way Keith softened at the thought of Lance was like a long overdue victory.

“So I know you are probably headed to the training room, but I’m dragging you to the kitchen, and you are going to tell me everything.”

Keith nearly yelped as Shiro threw his arm over the younger Paladin’s shoulders and began to direct them towards the kitchen. This was certainly not how he had expected things to go.

“Is there any way I’m getting out of this?”

“Nope,” Shiro elongated the n and popped the p sound for emphasis. It was so much like the old Shiro, before he had lost his arm and parts of his mind to the Galra, that Keith felt obliged to follow.

The smell of something shockingly akin to bacon and fresh brewed coffee greeted them in a nostalgic embrace as the kitchen door opened. It wafted through the air from the range where Hunk stood, humming to himself with a ridiculously large pile of ingredients beside him. Pidge was perched on the counter across from him with her laptop open on her crossed legs.

“Hey guys,” Hunk beamed, “you’re just in time to be taste testers!” His smile stretched across his face, making the apples of his cheek even rounder. “Pidge doesn’t eat pork and has extended that to pork substitutes.”

“I enjoy making myself suffer out of respect for my ancestors,” Pidge deadpanned. She took a sip from the steaming mug held in one hand while continuing to type with the other.

“Pork substitutes?” Keith ventured closer so that he could peer into the spitting pan.

“Yeah. So, it’s kind of weird, but Pidge and I looked into how the healing pods work and it turns out one of their functions is cell replication. From there it wasn’t a big leap to using that function to combine and replicate ingredients. A little bit of kelp from the Merdines, some Stixs meat from Qruehn, Balmeran cave bugs for texture and boom: space bacon.”

“Spacon,” Keith supplied, causing a round of violent coughing from Pidge to clear the drink she had accidentally inhaled.

“Lance has corrupted you!” she exclaimed with an accusatory finger pointing at Keith.

“No, Galra Keith is just funny.” Hunk loaded up a plate to hand to Keith along with a spork. “Spacon and the surprisingly universal eggs.”

“Thanks.” Keith took the dish and stared down at it as he tried to remember when the last time he had a traditional breakfast was. “What’s the coffee smell?”

“A pretty good approximation of coffee,” Shiro swooned. He had helped himself to a mug that he now had in both hands, keeping it close to his lips so that he could soak in the warmth and aroma like it was a religious experience. “Hunk, this is amazing.”

“We’re working on rice,” Pidge piped up. “Hunk’s just picky with that one.”

“Rice must be perfect,” Hunk insisted. “If the rice is wrong, everything is wrong.”

Subtly, Shiro’s expression changed to a melancholic smile. Keith nudged him before he could get too far down whatever path he was chasing a memory down. Those paths were twisted and one happy memory could easily turn dark.

“You had questions.” He hated volunteering the information, but it was a small sacrifice to keep Shiro from the darker corners of his mind.

“I believe my exact words were ‘tell me everything’,” Shiro pointed out.

“You don’t want to know everything.” Keith smirked and took one of the stools they had set up on the far counter for casual meals. It had become common for someone to set up at the counter to keep Hunk company on his culinary adventures, or for Coran to ‘supervise’ from the stools rather than hovering over Hunk’s shoulder.

“Wait.” Hunk looked up from his cooking and pointed his spatula between the two other men. “Does Shiro know about the space ranger partners thing?”

Keith paused with a sporkful of eggs halfway to his mouth because he knew exactly where that term had come from. “Is that really what Lance calls us?”

“Yes,” Hunk confirmed with a nod. He caught the little affectionate smile and his own grew wider. “Aw… you’ve got it bad.”

“I do not.” Keith shoved the eggs into his mouth, using the time it took to chew to try and control the flush crawling up his face. “But yes, Shiro knows.”

“Oh, good. I hate secrets. Why was it a secret again?”

“Because we didn’t want an us thing to be a Voltron thing.” Keith took a bite of the spacon. The flavor was slightly off, but it still had the salty smokiness that he remembered from Earth. He already knew Lance was going to gush over Hunk’s genius when she tried it.

“I guess that’s a pretty good reason.” Hunk loaded up a plate for Shiro and placed it directly in front of the Black Paladin to make it clear that he was not allowed to live off of coffee substitute alone.

“I keep on looking back and wondering how I missed it.” Pidge set her laptop aside and clasped her crossed ankles as she gave Keith her full attention. “You really did look like a pining idiot.”

“Thanks.”

In truth, he knew he had been. Long before they had gotten together, his affection for Lance had began to seep in. It had started with the flash memory of a realization that Lance had put into words: they were a good team. Each interaction after that just had the feeling set a little more until he realized that even if it never became more than camaraderie he needed Lance. Lance was his lightning rod, directing the energy and turmoil that Keith had spent his life trying to control in order to ground him. Admittedly it was sometimes as a sparring partner, both verbally or physically, but any malicious intent had been abandoned long ago.

“So,” Pidge continued as she leaned forward with her focus trained on Keith, “details. Who kissed who? I have a bet going with Hunk.”

“I already told you no bet,” Hunk protested. His voice was firm despite the softness of his expression that Keith absently filed away as something to present to Lance later.

Pidge spared a glance at Hunk. “Ok, fine, but I still want details. Just don’t make it too kissy.”

Keith arched a brow at her. “Too kissy?”

“You heard me.”

“I am curious how you two finally stopped dancing around one another,” Shiro interjected. He took a bite of the spacon in his hand, giving Hunk an approving nod accompanied by a sound of appreciation.

“Fine. So you know that after you disappeared, Shiro he- she? It was he at the time so I’m going to stick with that- Anyway, he and I ended up spending a lot of time together-

> Space stretched out beyond the observation window, all endless blackness and infinite stars. Lance searched that expanse, thumbs hooked into the back pocket of his jeans and shoulders relaxed in stark contrast to the tightly wound posture of the person next to him. His face lit up as he found what he was looking for.
> 
> “That one.” He nudged Keith with his shoulder and pointed to a bright disc among the stars. “That's the Milky Way.”
> 
> “Lance, the likeliness that we can even see the Milky Way in the first place is almost non-existent.” Keith didn’t bother to extract himself from his crossed arms, but he did consider the celestial body Lance was indicating, which was enough for now.
> 
> “I know, but humor me.”
> 
> “Fine,” Keith let out an annoyed huff for the sake of appearances more than anything. “That one at least looks like the right type.”
> 
> “Your optimism knows no bounds.” Lance smiled at him, something that was becoming increasingly common. His eyes did not turn back to the stars until Keith had returned the smile with an eyeroll that failed to hide his amusement. Once that barrier had fallen, Lance gazed back out into space. Slowly his smile faded into something wistful and raw and painfully real. “Do you ever miss Earth?”
> 
> “Sometimes,” Keith tore his attention away from the vulnerability that Lance had come to trust him with, “but there is so much out here. Didn’t you join the Garrison to explore space?”
> 
> “Yeah, partially, but one of the best parts of exploring is coming home. You know, big welcome home party with all your favorite food and favorite people.”
> 
> “My favorite people are here.”
> 
> “Keith-” Lance waited until Keith had turned back towards him before he continued with his voice weighted by the moment, “that was really sappy.”
> 
> “Shut up.” A flush of red creeped up the back of Keith’s neck. “There just isn’t much for me back on Earth.”
> 
> “Ok, but don't you miss like the oceans and beaches and-”
> 
> “Never seen them.”
> 
> Lance’s entire thought process came to an abrupt stop at this new information. It took a moment for it to even be processed and even then it didn’t quite register. “What?”
> 
> “I’ve never seen the ocean.”
> 
> “How?” He gaped at Keith. The reaction was ridiculous considering Lance had only triumphantly pumped his fist with a victorious ‘I knew it’ when Keith had told the team about his Galra heritage.
> 
> Keith’s left shoulder bounced with an apathetic shrug. “I never had a reason to go.“
> 
> “Seriously? You don't need a reason to go; the ocean itself is the reason.” Excitement rolled onto Lance’s face like the gathering of storm clouds on the horizon. His eyes flashed with enthusiasm as an easy grin cracked his features. “You’ll see, if we ever get back to Earth I’ll take you. We’ll go swimming and I'll show you how to catch a wave and oh, man, the sunset over the ocean and the way the moon reflects on the water- you gotta see that.”
> 
> “Sounds romantic.” It was meant to be a sarcastic quip, but Lance’s excitement was infectious.
> 
> “Ha, like looking at the stars in a secret meeting place isn’t.”
> 
> Lance laughed and the sound of it went straight to Keith’s chest. Every heartbeat brought the flutter of butterfly wings that had Keith sinking deeper into thoughts he usually tried to ignore. He wanted, though. He wanted to go to the beach with Lance and bask in the warmth of the sun and Lance’s smile and see how he looked in the light of the setting sun. Then, under the light of the moon, he wanted to feel the warmth of the day and taste the salt of the sea on Lance’s skin. He wasn’t even aware he was staring until Lance caught him.
> 
> “Quiznak, Keith, don't look at me like that. It makes me want to do something that’ll just make things weird.”
> 
> “What do you mean?” A bubble of paranoia driven panic scattered the butterflies.
> 
> “I just…” Lance shuffled as his eyes wandered the room before finally finding Keith’s again. “I want more. I'm kind of terrified of risking what we have now, though. I’m good with what we have now. What we have now is nice. Then you give me that look and I start to think it might be worth doing something reckless.”
> 
> The panic subsided into something more comfortable, something they had been from the very beginning, when they would step into one another’s space and exchange verbal jabs. That something had Keith probing for more with confidence that he knew what he’d find. “Like what?”
> 
> “Kissing you, probably.”
> 
> A valiant attempt was made to hide the gravity of the statement in it’s casual delivery, though no delivery would hide how it pulled the moment tight. Things quickly snapped as impulse had Keith covering the few steps between them in order to press his lips to Lance’s. It was his nature to act while others worried about the consequences, after all. As the head of Voltron he had struggled against that with painful awareness that his risks had weighty costs for his friends and allies. Here, however, he could just do and be rewarded by the way Lance shifted so their lips fit together just right.
> 
> Keith pulled away with a satisfied smirk. “Like that?”

-One day he found out I hadn’t seen the ocean. So he said he would take me and started going on about all of the things we would do. When I told him it sounded like a date he went with it and things kind of just progressed from there.”

“You are a horrible story teller,” Pidge stated.

“So, wait, I just need to get one thing straight” Hunk leveled a serious look at Keith, mouth set in a stern line. “You have never seen the ocean?”

Keith’s answer was interrupted by Coran stepping into the room.

“Paladins! Here you are.” Coran stopped a few steps in and sniffed the air. “Certainly an interesting smelling meal you’ve cooked up this time, Hunk. What is it?”

“Spacon.” Hunk held out a plate in invitation. “It’s an approximation of a popular Earth food. A little salty, a little smokey: all tasty.”

Coran took a strip to venture a cautious nibble. The reaction was not at all expected as his mustache bristled and the color drained from his face.

“It’s certainly… interesting.” He placed the strip delicately back on the plate then slowly pushed it away. “Hm, it seems all of you are here except for who I’m looking for. Has anyone seen Lance? I have a few more tests I need her for.”

All eyes turned none too subtly to Keith. For a moment he stayed silent. There was definitely something wrong with the amount of tests Coran was insisting on and everything seemed to be kept a little too vague for Keith’s liking. Still, he knew that Coran would never put Lance in danger.

“She’s in her room,” he relented. He fixed his attention on his meal as Coran thanked him and left the room in deafening silence. The eyes on Keith made him bristle. He knew it was only a matter of time before Shiro tried to reassure him with some optimistic line about trusting his team.

“Pidge,” Shiro finally said, “see what you can turn up from the castle’s system. I think it’s time we knew what all these tests are saying.”


	3. A Very Keith Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New information is revealed, Lance makes a decision, and Keith isn't happy about any of it.
> 
> _“So what is the best case scenario?” Looking for the best case scenario was the only explanation Lance could ever get from Coran that she could actually understand. Everything else was just a jumble of terms from science that Earth hadn’t even discovered yet, much less taught. Even Pidge had given her a blank look when she tried to convey the explanation while Hunk had boiled it down to ‘space magic’. Lance agreed with her best friend and left it at that._  
>  _“That is entirely dependent on you,” Slav said in his vaguely familiar lilt. “For example, my best case scenario is the one where your big friend in the yellow makes me those little vegetable cups with the spicy pea paste filling. Oh, those are so good. But I also like those tart things...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter portrays some mild gender dysphoria.

There were days when the reflection in the mirror looked off. The jawline wasn’t strong enough, the lips were too full, and the eyes were too round. Most of those days Lance could just deal with it. They were fighting an intergalactic war, after all, and that came with things more important than if he felt like himself. Things like supporting his team and defending the universe and getting back to his family. By comparison, it didn’t matter that the compression of the binder reminded him that his chest needed to be flattened or how painfully aware he was that his shoulders didn’t fill out his jacket like they used to. It did matter, though, because he knew what his body felt like male, had spent some twenty years with it, and on the bad days the feeling of dysphoria was all the worse for it.

He closed the screens in front of him and leaned forward, covering his head with his hands. His fingers curled into his hair and the dull pain of the pulling helped center him as his mind threatened to spiral to places he hated going.

Guiltily, he wished for an attack. There had been a few altercations with the Galra after Pidge and Keith's reconnaissance mission that would be the perfect distraction right now. In his armor, piloting a lion or on a mission, being a Paladin of Voltron and all that came with it overshadowed any other aspects of his identity.

“Lance?”

Lance started as Allura placed a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even heard the doors to the bridge open, much less her approach the Blue Paladin's station.

“Are you alright?” The concern on her face and in her tone made Lance feel worse. She had so much more to be concerned about than him.

“As fine as you are, beautiful.” He shot her a wink and double finger guns. Miraculously, the sound of his voice didn't make him outwardly wince. It was just another thing that didn't line up with his view of himself.

“Lance,” she removed her hand to place it firmly on her hip while leveling a stern look at him, “I am afraid you are going to have to try harder than that.”

“You’re obviously from outer space because your body is out of this world?” He gave her a cocky, hopeful grin.

“I meant to convince me you are alright,” she clarified, but he could see the amusement in her eyes. “Your attempts at flirting will never work.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Lance slumped back in his chair.  He idly fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. “I'm just not feeling like myself today.”

The traces of amusement gave way to concern. “What do you mean? You look like yourself.”

“Yeah,” he glowered, “my female self.”

“Oh.” She moved over to sit on the raised platform in the center of the bridge, resting her arms in her lap. “I sometimes forget humans’ appearances do not adjust to how they view themselves.”

His hand stilled as he raised his eyes to meet Allura’s. “Alteans’ do?”

The princess nodded. “It is mostly settled by the time we reach adulthood, except for those that view themselves as fluid, as you put it. Of course it is not drastic enough to change the appearance of our species, but things like our complexion and height and how we present are all based on how we see ourself.”

“How you present?” He had an idea of what she meant, but he was cautious about making assumptions.

“Alteans technically only have one gender,” she explained. The way she diverted her eyes when she talked suggested it was not a commonly discussed topic in Altean culture. “We present as masculine or feminine or somewhere in between depending on how we feel.”

A bit of envy curled bitterly in Lance's chest. He couldn't even start to imagine the amount of pain, both physically and mentally, that ability would prevent in humans. “That must be nice.”

“I suppose it is. I’ve never really thought of it.” She raised her hand to lightly touch her chin as she considered something that just was for her. “There was the time I mistook the mice telling me 'Pidge is a girl’ as 'Pidge is feminine’. It didn’t make sense.”

Lance couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. Pidge had the capability of being feminine. She and Lance had bonded over their desire to wear a dress or makeup without a big thing being made of it. Ultimately, however, Pidge was unconcerned with how people viewed her. If someone mistook her for male, which seemed to be a common thing when they were out on missions, she never bothered to correct them. In her mind, if it didn’t concern her friends, family, or tech, it wasn’t really worth the effort.

“I can see how that would be confusing.” Lance sat up and reached his arms over his head, feeling the stretch in his back and ribs while still doing his best to ignore the tightness of the binder. “That entire quintant was confusing. Or was it several quintants? I still don’t really remember what happened. The healing pods are really disorienting.”

Allura chuckled. “Everyone was so impatient waiting for you to wake up. Keith refused to leave your side.”

“Well, we had a bonding moment.” It was meant to be a joke, but it was impossible to stop the goofy, lopsided grin that took over his expression. “It was a big deal for him.”

“He cradled you in his arms,” Allura recalled with a note of teasing that turned into a sly smirk. “He does a lot of that now, doesn't he?”

A flush colored Lance's cheeks. “The mice tell you that?”

“Quite some time ago,” Allura replied. “Our mental link is also strengthened by our mutual bond with the Blue Lion. It took me a bit to realize the feelings for Keith I was experiencing were not my own.”

Lance turned a new shade of red. Usually the mental link was noticeable only while piloting the lions or in extenuating circumstances, but there were definitely times Lance had been thinking things Allura might not have appreciated. “I am so sorry I made you think you were attracted to that haircut.”

Allura’s laughter was like the notes of a wind chime played by a cool breeze. “Like you are?”

“Quiznack, Allura,” Lance covered his face with his hands, “don't make me say it out loud. It's bad enough he knows.”

Her playful smile and laughter continued to dance in her eyes, though she did not say anything more about it. “What are you doing up here, anyway? It is not common for you to be on the bridge by yourself.”

Lance dropped his hands. Really, he had been looking for a distraction and a way to make himself useful that wasn’t menial labor. There was anything wrong with menial labor, it just never helped his self worth or occupied his mind adequately.

“Trying to figure out if there is a strategy behind the encounters we’ve had.” He pulled up the screens he had been looking at to show her. “They feel random, but if I know anything about Lotor it’s that he doesn’t do things randomly.”

“That he does not,” Allura agreed with a curt nod. “I was going to run a diagnostic on the castle, but I can do that while going through things with you.”

“Thanks, Allura. Talking it out will definitely help.”

As she stood and went to her station, Lance felt the pang of homesickness as he remembered talks with his sister on days when he felt down or that he didn’t fit in his own skin. It was one of those days that she had shown him how to tousle his hair so that it looked more feminine and given him one of her dresses. She had always been there for him and Lance thought she would be grateful for Allura for taking on that role.

Maybe one day he would get to tell her all about it.

* * *

According to Slav, there were no realities where Lance was somehow turned into an Arusian, which was good because she wasn’t sure if the Paladin armor would adapt that much. Also, being shorter than Keith was bad enough; there was no way she would ever be ok with being shorter than Pidge. The only upside to it would be that Hunk could carry her around in a backpack like some retro video game duo. It was a moot point, however, since Slav had not even hesitated with his answer.

The eccentric genius continued typing, mumbling to himself about probabilities and how right he had been about teladuvs. He was there because Coran had contacted him for a second opinion. That meant Lance was once again hooked up to the monitors with the sensors that itched and the oximeter that slowly wore down her sanity. As a distraction she had asked about the likelihood of her impending life as an Arusian, remembering the affection in Keith’s eyes as he had said he would still find Lance attractive even if that reality was somehow theirs.

“So what is the best case scenario?” Looking for the best case scenario was the only explanation Lance could ever get from Coran that she could actually understand. Everything else was just a jumble of terms from science that Earth hadn’t even discovered yet, much less taught. Even Pidge had given her a blank look when she tried to convey the explanation while Hunk had boiled it down to ‘space magic’. Lance agreed with her best friend and left it at that.

“That is entirely dependent on you,” Slav said in his vaguely familiar lilt. “For example, my best case scenario is the one where your big friend in the yellow makes me those little vegetable cups with the spicy pea paste filling. Oh, those are so good. But I also like those tart things...”

Lance tuned Slav out as she considered what her best case scenario actually was. For most, it was probably staying in whichever body they were comfortable with, but that didn’t really work for Lance. She felt equally at ease and equally trapped in either depending on the day. Fortunately, she had some really great friends to help make those days better. 

> “Hey, you want to hit the pool?” Hunk slung his arm across Lance’s shoulder with a wide grin. “I bet we could get Pidge and Keith to play chicken.”
> 
> Lance forced himself to return his friend’s smile. He wanted to, he really did, but the thought of being shirtless made his skin crawl. Even with the binder, his shoulders would be too slim and his hips too large, those same hips that had felt so natural and right the day before.
> 
> “Sounds fun,” he ducked out from under Hunk’s arm, “but I think I’m going to pass.”
> 
> A crease formed in Hunk’s brow. He had never known Lance to pass up an opportunity to swim or compete with Keith. Something clicked, however, when he noticed Lance’s arms crossed over his chest and the way he curled into himself. He didn’t really understand his best friend’s gender dysphoria or how or why it came and went, but he had realized long ago he didn’t need to understand it; he just needed to be there for support and the occasional distraction.
> 
> “That’s cool, bro. Want to go shoot things instead? You did say you were going to teach me some of your sharpshooter secrets.”
> 
> Lance broke into an easy smile. His eyes lit up and Hunk silently congratulated himself. “Dude, yes. Let’s go shoot some holes in things.”

“Both,” Lance finally decided with a curt nod. “Both is good.”

“The vegetable cups _and_ the tarts?” Slav’s eyes went wide at the possibility. “Oh no. No, no, no, no. That results in a serious stomach ache in twenty seven out of every thirty two realities.”

“What? No, I meant both genders. Like shape shifting.”

“Oh! Well that is entirely different.” All of Slav’s hands stopped typing as he gave Lance his full attention, squinting as he looked into Lance’s suddenly confused gaze. “Is this one of the realities where you have Altean ancestry?”

“Uh… no?”

“Hm…” Slav tapped his chin with his top right hand, the left cradling his elbow, while the next pair counted off some calculations. “Then there is only a three and four sixteenths percent chance that you end up being able to go between genders as a human.” He went back to the keyboard and they lapsed into silence for a few minutes as he worked.

“As a human?” Lance said to herself. It seemed like a weird distinction except for the one obvious alternative. “What’s the chance I end up as an Altean?”

“Ten and two three hundredths of a percent,” Slav answered easily. He didn’t even look away from the readings he was transferring to his calculations as they scrolled across the screen.

“That seems high.” A missing part of an equation Lance hadn’t been aware she was trying to solve slid into place. It was accompanied by the burst of glee that came with the formation of a particularly clever plan. “Is it because Allura is Altean? Wait, is that why I became female, because Allura identifies as feminine?”

The feeling of brilliance was squashed by Slav’s blank stare. “You mean you didn’t know that? I thought it was obvious.”

“Well, no one else seemed to have figured it out.” Lance crossed her arms and did her best impression of Keith’s sour glare. “How much longer do you need me here?”

“Oh, I got all the readings I need twenty doboshes ago.” Slav waved his top right ran as if shooing her away. “You are free to go.”

“What?” Lance threw her hands up in exasperation. “Why are you just now telling me this?” She nearly fell off the exam table as she freed her finger from the oximeter. The sensors came next and she didn’t even mind the slight sting of them being quickly ripped off her skin if it meant she could be rid of the things.

“I thought you were enjoying my company.”

Lance came to an abrupt stop. For several ticks she just stared at Slav. He stared back.

“Fair enough,” she conceded before rushing from the room with the cautious hope that was the last of the tests.

As she jogged to the common area she gradually noticed that the usual hum of the castle seemed quieter. The realization was accompanied by a sense of unease that had Lance slowing to a stop as she scanned the hall for anything out of place. Memories of an AI gone rogue flitted through her mind, causing her gut to knot and driving her towards the bridge. There she found Allura at her station. The princess was surrounded by screens, one with a feed to engineering where Coran and Hunk were working with hurried movements. At her station, Pidge was hunched over her interface with the glare of the screen reflecting off her glasses.

“What’s going on?” Lance scanned the screens surrounding Allura, but she was moving through information too quickly for Lance’s level of fluency in Altean.

“The infracells are offline.” Allura’s words were as quick and precise as her hand movements over the translucent blue screens. “Without them, we are unable to use the thrusters to outrun Lotor’s armada in hyperdrive.”

A flick of her wrist pulled up the star map. The Castle of Lions was a vibrant white point of light among the blue and headed straight for it were the orange markers that indicated Lotor’s armada. Lance’s heart jumped to her throat when she saw the marker for Lotor’s personal ship, the one that could actually contest Voltron itself, and the red and purple dots at the vanguard between it and the castle.

“The information we got from the cruiser was infected with a virus,” Pidge practically spat. Lance could read the guilt between the lines of her anger as she chased down the malicious program through streams of files and code. “It overheated the infracells to force them to shut down.”

“Nothing the Coranich and I can’t fix,” Hunk called through the feed connecting the bridge and engineering, “It’s just going to take time.”

“Time we don’t have,” Allura finished. Her expression turned grave, but Lance was too fixated on the points of light to notice.

Questions raced through her mind, circling around the thought that of course Lotor had realized they weren’t using the teladuv and of course he would use it to his advantage. He might not know they could use the teladuv now, though. Allura was better and the situation called for them to chance a less than best case scenario. That thought brought one question to the forefront, making it loud enough for Lance to voice.

“Why aren’t we using the teladuv?”

Silence stretched out over the bridge until, finally, Pidge shattered it.

“You could die.” Her voice was so unexpectedly small and pained that it almost distracted Lance from the words themselves. She barely heard Hunk’s strangled exclamation as Pidge continued. “I hacked the castle and got the test results for Shiro and-”

“A wormhole has the possibility of draining your quintessence entirely,” Coran interrupted. He knew he should have said this long before now. He also knew it would not have changed anything other than Lance’s emotional state. “We are trying to avoid that, of course, but the probability is currently higher than I would like.”

The breath was sucked from Lance’s chest for a moment. They faced death on a regular basis, but rarely in such a personal way. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and forced her voice to remain steady as she spoke. “How high?”

“Nine point nine three five percent,” Coran replied with a solemn resignation that weighted each syllable so that the numbers settled heavily in Lance’s mind.

“Is that all?” Lance smiled with no Keith there to see she was really just trying to keep herself from drowning.

Her eyes flicked to the red and purple lights facing the encroaching orange. The only way they would stand a chance was if they formed Voltron, and Hunk and Pidge were needed here. Lance going out in the Blue Lion might delay their attackers long enough for them to purge the virus and get the infracells online, but the risk to the team was too high. Their only real hope was to make a jump and Lance couldn’t force her friends- her family- to have to weigh her life against the odds. Leaving her with Slav instead of calling her to assist had probably been a last hope that somehow that decision would be made less burdensome.

A very Keith idea formed in her mind and she latched onto it.

“I’m feeling lucky. Call back the Red and Black Lions then make the jump. I’m going to get into a healing pod and hope it helps my chances.” Lance did everything she could to hide any doubt or fear from Allura as their eyes met. She adopted her favorite mask of the cocky flirt with a quick wink. “Wake me with a kiss, beautiful.”

Lance turned on her heels and ran out the door before anyone had a chance to protest. It was her life, after all, and the value of it was hers to weigh. She could only hope that Keith would understand.

* * *

Each of Shiro's strides reverberated through Keith’s still taut nerves as he fell into step behind the Black Paladin. The urgency of the pace amplified the feeling of wrongness that settled heavy in Keith’s gut, echoed by the Red Lion in his mind. They entered the bridge where a heavy silence was hanging ominously in the air.

“Where’s Lance?” There was fear in Shiro's voice; fear that was reflected in Allura's eyes.

“The healing pods.” The Altean’s lips were a tight, trembling line. “She thought it might help her chances.”

Keith's attention snapped between them, a song of panic playing on the strings of his nerves. “What chances?”

Shiro looked at him. There was the shadow of what might have been sympathy or even regret in his eyes. “Of survival.”

His words were like the rush of blood in Keith's ears, soft but all consuming. It snapped the strings and their recoil spurred Keith into action. Before conscious thought could even have a say, he was running to the med bay. The need to see Lance drove him down the halls as a mantra of 'please, please, please’ matched the rapid cadence of his heart.

The healing pods were empty. Each and every one. Keith checked them all as if that would change anything. When the truth sunk in he could only stare numbly at the pods even as he heard someone enter behind him.

“Keith-”  Shiro tried.

Keith grit his teeth. “Don't,” he warned. His head turned just enough that he could see Shiro standing with Allura and Coran. “Just give me answers. _Now.”_

Allura stepped up to speak only to be stopped by Coran placing a hand on her shoulder.

“No, Princess, this is my decision to take responsibility for.” The older Altean stepped forward. Keith noted that he stayed out of immediate striking range. “Lance’s quintessence was destabilized when she went through that wormhole. It seems her gender fluidity, as you humans call it, allowed it to essentially fix itself by using some of Allura's as a graft. Going through another wormhole, however, may have caused the graft to be rejected. If that happened then Lance's quintessence would be drained in a matter of doboshes. She would be dead before we had a chance to replenish it.”

Keith’s knuckles hurt from how tight his fists were clenched. He could feel the well of panic and the stinging threat of tears as his mind provided him with the scenarios where he never saw Lance's smile again or got the chance to say the things he hadn’t thought to put words to.

“Why didn't you say anything?” he demanded.

“Because at first, it seemed the graft was taking on its own,” Coran solemnly replied. “Then, well, in my hubris I thought I could handle the situation without causing her any distress.”

Keith stalked forward, to do what he wasn't sure, only to be stopped by Shiro’s hand on his shoulder to restrain him as much as offer comfort.

“Keith, you need to-”

“What? Calm down?” Keith practically snarled through bared teeth. He knocked Shiro’s hand away, letting anger take over because anger was easier than the dread and anguish and regret warring in his mind. “This isn’t one of your ‘patience yields focus’ teaching moments, Shiro. Lance is gone just after we went through a wormhole that, surprise, had a chance of draining her quintessence. What part of that situation should I be calm about?”

“You’re right, Keith,” Shiro responded. He kept his voice steady and maintained eye contact, sympathetic but unyielding. “Flying off the handle won't help, though, and it wasn't just Coran’s decision. Pidge got me the information and after talking to Coran, he and I agreed it was better for Lance and the team to at least let Slav take a look before we said anything.”

“And whose decision was it to risk her by using the teladuv to escape?” The anger hadn't left Keith's voice, just simmered into something more controlled but no less dangerous.

“It was hers,” Allura murmured.

Silence took over as Keith met her eyes and saw the same guilt and worry and pain that he was feeling. His attention went back to the empty pods when it became too much. The only solace was the lack of evidence that any of the pods had been used recently. Keith was too much of a pessimist to take that as a good sign, though.

“Hey, guys,” Hunk said over the comms, “I ran a scan of the castle after Keith said Lance was gone and he’s right. She's not in the castle. So I asked Pidge to look for anything related to Lance in the last varga.”

“And I got this,” Pidge picked up, “while still saving the castle.”

There was a moment of quiet and then: “I’m going to be brief because I need to cover a lot of ground to avoid notice.”

The relief that washed over Keith at the sound of Lance’s voice felt all consuming. It made the anger drain away, leaving an empty space for all the other emotions to rush into. They were strong enough that he almost broke down. Lance was alive. There was no way of telling if she was safe, but at least she was alive.

“I lied about the healing pod,” the message continued. “Sorry. I just knew you wouldn’t leave without me and I can’t just leave my life up to chance. I can’t continue to hold the team back, either, or put you in danger because of me. So I’m taking a pod to go… well, I’ll figure that out later. Just don’t come looking for me until you know it’s safe. Allura can pilot Blue and Keith,” she paused and Keith could almost see the downcast look that might have accompanied the loaded silence, “I’m sorry. Lance out.”

“I’m going after her.” Keith was moving the moment the message ended. No matter what Lance said, there was no way he was leaving her out there alone. He couldn’t lose anyone else he cared about. Without Lance’s support he didn’t know if he was strong enough to.

“You can’t.” Allura’s strength stopped him as she grabbed his arm.

“Watch me,” Keith growled. He broke the grip with a swift jerk.

“Keith, please, think about what you’re doing.”

The words and tone were much more effective at stopping Keith than any physical restraint. They mimicked all the times Lance had acted as his impulse control and he knew Allura was doing it on purpose. She was a diplomat, after all, and accustomed to reading her audience and adjusting accordingly.

“I want to go after Lance as well,” Allura said when she saw that Keith was listening, “but she wouldn’t want you to split the team.”

“So we care about what she wants now?” He glared past Allura at Coran and Shiro.

“Keith, my boy, I love Lance like my own,” Coran explained with a voice that was distant and strained. “Sometimes that love means making difficult decisions you think will protect them, even if it turns out to not be the right or moral decision to make.”

Keith couldn’t look at any of them anymore. He closed his eyes to recenter himself. “Pidge, Hunk,” he finally called, “after you’ve fixed the castle I’m going to need you to scan the quadrant we were just in for any signs of Lance or Lotor.”

“You’ve got it, Chief,” Hunk responded in unison with Pidge’s ‘will do’.

“Coran, go help Hunk, then check on Slav’s progress. Allura, contact the Blade of Marmora and ask them to keep an eye out.”

“What can I do?” Shiro asked.

Keith’s mind stalled at the question. Giving orders to Shiro seemed like some line he shouldn't cross. There weren't many lines he wouldn't cross for Lance at this point, though. “Contact Matt and the Rebellion. See if they’re in the quadrant. If nothing else, maybe they can send Ryou to look for her. I'm going to go make sure Red doesn't decide to take care of things herself.”

He could feel the Red Lion in his mind, rumbling her displeasure at her other Paladin’s departure. She wanted theirs back. Keith agreed with the sentiment, but he knew Allura was right. Lance wouldn't want them to split the team, even if a bitter part of him told him that they already had.


	4. Lance Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance cope with very different situations.  
>    
>  _“Lance will be ok,” Hunk murmured. His voice was a soothing thrum that vibrated through Keith. “She’s smart and resourceful and nothing in the universe could keep her from coming back.”_  
>  _“I know. I just-” Keith let himself lean into Hunk and let his walls fall. “If I lose him… her-”_  
>  _A soothing cold flowed over Keith, intimately familiar yet entirely new. It brought to mind the relief of rain ending a drought or the trickle of ice water over sore muscles. It spoke of Lance's capabilities and praised Keith for how he had helped the Blue Paladin improve, providing theirs with more than enough skill to come back to them._

Keith had built up so many walls in his life that he had forgotten how raw he was beneath them. There were subtle reminders, of course; times when cracks exposed how vulnerable he really was. Those were minor flesh wounds compared to the gaping hole left by Lance. Only Shiro’s loss compared, and that had led Keith into a spiral that ended with him killing his dream of being a fighter pilot in exchange for living in what passed for his childhood home, chasing the same nothing his father probably had. Even then, Lance had been the catalyst to turning that nothing into something. Now he had to wait for his something to come back and soothe the parts of him left exposed by their absence.

He steadied himself against the Red Lion’s muzzle, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. His forehead rested against her cool metal and in his mind she rumbled comfort juxtaposed with her own discontent. They could go get theirs back, after all, and anyone who stood in their way would fall to their fire. The Empire had taken away her red and her blue one before; she would not let it happen again.

“We can’t split the team,” Keith whispered. Hearing those words in his own voice made them seem weak and thin. He couldn’t put one life over that of millions, though; no matter how much that one life meant to him.

The Black Lion lent his strength to Keith’s shakey resolve. Keith could almost see him in his mind’s eye, sitting stoically as Red paced in front of him with her tail switching back and forth in irritation. This was the right thing to do; the good of the team and the universe sometimes demanded sacrifice.

The Red Lion did not agree.

“Hey, man.”

The vision of the lions dissolved as soon as Keith opened his eyes. He turned to Hunk, belatedly realizing the tears had turned from hot pricks to warm tracks down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away and hoped Hunk didn’t mention anything.

“How’s it?”

“Fine,” Keith lied, though it was more of a sardonic reply. There was probably no convincing anyone on the Castle of Lions that he was fine. “Just… I’m fine.”

Hunk looked him over with concern in the crease of his brow and set of his jaw. “It’s ok to not be fine, bro.”

“I-”

The lump in Keith’s throat felt like it would choke him, cutting off anything he might have been about to say. Words weren’t needed, however; Hunk could see it all in the way Keith dropped his gaze and shrank in on himself. He responded by drawing Keith into an embrace, offering something solid for Keith to lean against both mentally and physically.

“Lance will be ok,” Hunk murmured. His voice was a soothing thrum that vibrated through Keith. “She’s smart and resourceful and nothing in the universe could keep her from coming back.”

“I know. I just-” Keith let himself lean into Hunk and let his walls fall. “If I lose him… her-”

A soothing cold flowed over Keith, intimately familiar yet entirely new. It brought to mind the relief of rain ending a drought or the trickle of ice water over sore muscles. It spoke of Lance's capabilities and praised Keith for how he had helped the Blue Paladin improve, providing theirs with more than enough skill to come back to them.

Recognition struck, causing Keith to pull away from Hunk to look toward where the Blue Lion sat in her bay. In the mindscape where the Black and Red Lions faced off, the Blue Lion curled around Keith, admonishing Red for her irrationality and Black for his detachment in a wordless language that Keith couldn’t comprehend. He could almost make out the Yellow and Green Lions at the edge of his mind where they vanished whenever noticed.

“I can’t promise that won’t happen.” Hunk shifted so that his hands rested Keith's shoulders, completely unaware of the astral lions around them. “You won’t be alone if it does, though. We’re brothers, remember? No matter what, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Hunk.” Keith wiped away the tears that had broken past his resolve with the heel of his hand. “How are things going with the infracells?”

Hunk straightened with one hand going to his hip while the other scratched his jaw. “Well enough. Pidge just has to finish quarantining the virus before we can boot everything back up. She has a few more systems to go, but once that’s done we should be set.” He looked over at the Red Lion.  "How’s Red?”

Keith followed Hunk’s gaze to his lion; his and Lance’s lion. She had settled in his mind, temporarily compliant but no less upset. There would be no pleasing her until Lance was back, so compliant was probably the most Keith could ask for.

“She’s not happy,” he finally answered, “but she's not going to go rogue.”

“So same as you.”

Keith crossed his arms and his eyes fell to the floor as he drew back into himself. “Yeah.”

Waiting and trusting were two things Keith wasn't good at. He was getting better, but it was always a struggle against his instinct to act. One of Kolivan's many speeches on the importance of the mission over the individual played in his mind. Per usual, it didn't help.

“Hey, come help me make dinner,” Hunk put his arm around Keith and steered him towards the exit. “I think I finally have rice figured out and I could use your knife skills for the stir fry I want to try.”

“Sure.” Keith followed Hunk out of the Red Lion's bay and away from the mindscape the lions inhabited. As Hunk rambled about the many culinary possibilities rice opened up, Keith tried not to think about what Lance would be eating, if anything, or where she had ended up. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering if she was safe. Hunk and the Blue Lion were right, however; Lance was more than capable of handling herself. Keith just hoped she didn't let her own self doubts convince her otherwise.

* * *

Lance was regrettably familiar with crashing. The safety of the simulator at the Galaxy Garrison combined with the knowledge that Iverson was judging him as the cargo pilot who was just good enough to fill a vacancy was always her inevitable failure there. Then there were all the times piloting the Blue or Red Lions where she had lost focus or gotten hit. None of that compared to this, though. The simulator was fake and the lions were close to indestructible so there had always been the illusion of safety. There was no illusion as she plummeted from the upper atmosphere in a crippled shuttle trailing smoke and bits of metal.

The safety system enveloped her in an invisible barrier that kept her from being tossed about like a rag doll or impaled. It also restrained her as impact became imminent, though, and the feeling would probably appear in future nightmares. At least it would add some variety.

“Note to self,” she groaned as the dust settled and the world came back into focus, “do Keith, not Keith things.”

Despite the safety system, everything hurt. It didn't seem anything was broken or sprained, however, which was fortunate since that could have been a death sentence. Lance took several deep breaths just to confirm her ribs were alright before daring to sit up.

The screens flickered to life, showing the results of the emergency diagnostic scan of the systems. As Lance had expected, everything was busted. Hunk or Pidge might have been able to salvage the craft, but Lance certainly didn't have the skill. It was a moot point, anyway, since staying with the shuttle was just asking to be captured.

“Alright, let's scan the atmosphere. Even if most of the planets we end up on are weirdly hospitable, I am not feeling lucky.” There was no need to say the command aloud as she pulled up the results, but there was something comforting about talking to the system. She talked to Red or Blue all the time when piloting them, after all. It was a comforting habit that made her feel less alone, even if there was no mental feedback.

One by one, fails appeared on the screen before it went red in defeat.

“Well, thanks for trying,” Lance sighed. She sat back and ran her fingers through her hair as she formulated her next move.

There was a flight suit in her bag of supplies, along with rations, a medical kit, and other survival items. She had packed it after the third time the Red Lion had pulled at Lance's mind because Keith was in danger while on a mission with the Blade of Marmora. It was a promise to both herself and Red that if Keith really needed help, Lance would go. There was no other situation that she had thought of where she would leave the team, yet here she was. Alone.

“You can do this, Lance.” She forced herself to sit up and survey her surroundings. “Brains of the operation, remember? Just set up your next move and go from there.”

She got out of the pilot’s chair, trying to ignore the aches and pains that accompanied each movement, and retrieved the bag of supplies. After taking a dose of pain medicine from the medical kit, she pulled out the flight suit. It had the same silhouette as the suit that went under the paladin armor, with clean lines and blue accents. She slipped it on and secured the helmet. The display appeared to confirm that she didn't have any broken bones, internal bleeding, or other serious injuries.

Lance pulled the two laser pistols out of the bag and holstered them on her hips before shouldering the bag and stepping out into the sun. The display helpfully showed the atmospheric data. It showed the air was safe for humans, but the UV and heat levels were dangerously high. Lance would probably be fine for roughly a varga before dehydration and heat stroke became a serious concern. By then, her skin would have gone right past a rich tan to a painful ruddy brown.

The visor of the helmet darkened as Lance stepped out into the light of the planet’s double suns. Shadows stretched in opposite directions, making the sun bleached buildings and rubble almost surreal. The building's pastel colors seemed to dance as the hot air bent the light, partially obscuring the forms watching her.

Gradually the forms came into focus as a few ventured closer. They cautiously eyed the wreck like scavengers unsure if a carcass had been abandoned. When they got close enough, Lance could make out reptilian heads. They did not seem to have any eyes, but seemed to see Lance nonetheless.

“I come in peace?” Despite her words, she rested a hand on the grip of one of her pistols.

At her words, the natives stopped. One with a whip like body stepped forward and stretched out an arm. Lance almost yelped as a feathered serpent darted by her to wrap itself around the offered arm. The creatures slithered up to the native's shoulder and its red eyes glazed over as it stared at the Blue Paladin.

“Leave the spoils and run, little prey,” the winged serpent hissed. “The hunters are coming.”

As if on cue, the natives turned toward the sky. Lance didn't have to look to know why. Even if she couldn't hear the scream of the Galra fighters, she knew they would be coming for her.Shooting her down would be wasted without capturing her or confirming the kill.

After a moment of indecision, Lance stepped forward. Every part of her primal brain told her to run, but logic indicated calm control was the best chance of survival. The natives had not attacked, after all, and had warned her of the impending arrival of Galra ships. They had also called her prey, however, and possessed sharp claws and pointed teeth that protruded from their mouths. Lance wasn't going to assume they would eat her, but she wouldn't be surprised if they did.

As she moved forward, so did the natives. The one that had spoken to her stood stoically facing Lance as the others descended on the pod. Behind her, Lance could hear the scrape and clank of the hull being dismantled.

As soon as Lance was beyond the rubble, hidden from the sky by the sun baked pastel buildings, she took the advice of the native and ran.

* * *

Keith had always been use to being alone. He didn't like it, but it was how most of his life had been spent, so he adapted. It was part of the reason he did so well in the Blade of Marmora. Team bonding wasn't exactly a priority when protocol said the mission was more important than the individual.

Voltron was the complete opposite, however, so Keith had gradually adapted to that as well. It was nice to be a part of something, a family as Lance had said, who understood when he needed space as well as when he needed to be surrounded. It was also nice to fall asleep to conversations in the dark next to a warm body; next to Lance.

“This is ridiculous,” Keith muttered, as he abruptly got out of bed. It was the start of another sleepless night in a room that didn't feel like his anymore. The walls were too bare and the darkness echoed Lance's absence as it lacked a steady breath that wasn't his or the possibility of nonsensical mumbling.

As he headed to Lance's room, he wondered if this was what it felt like to be homesick. He hadn't felt anything remotely similar since he had been taken away from his father. There were hints of the feeling when he was off with the Blades or the times Shiro had been missing, but it had never been this acute. 

> “I added you to the room key,” Lance said offhandedly as his fingers lazily traced the lines of Keith's back.
> 
> Keith pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could look over at his boyfriend. “Why?”
> 
> The first response was a shrug. Lance's fingers skirted down the length of Keith's spine and his hand came to rest on the small of the Red Paladin's back. His eyes stayed on it as if admiring the contrast of their skin tones.
> 
> “So you don't have to wait outside,” he answered casually. His lips brushed Keith's cheek before he flopped back onto the bed. “And I like having you here. I figure if you have free access you might come by more often.”
> 
> Keith considered Lance for a long moment. Being added to the room key felt significant, at least more significant than Lance's tone and demeanor implied. Everything was there, though, in between the lines of their conversations and the shared smiles. It made being invited into Lance's room, into his life, whenever Keith wanted as casual as a kiss before bed.
> 
> “If you want a picture, I might have a Loverboy Lance headshot lying around,” Lance said with a quick wink when it became obvious Keith was staring.
> 
> “You’re ridiculous.” Keith took Lance's lips, savoring the unsaid things between them. When they parted, those same unsaid things sparkled in Lance's eyes. “You know if I stay the night, you're waking up early with me to train.”
> 
> “Or I could make you comfortable enough that you want to sleep in,” Lance countered. He tucked some hair behind Keith's ear and his smile was fond enough that Keith felt a blush creeping across his cheeks.
> 
> “We’ll see.” Keith turned away and rested his head back on the pillow. Lance moved to fit against him with a pleased hum before they drifted off to sleep.
> 
> When the morning cycle’s lights came on, Keith didn't even bother trying to get out of bed.

Lance's room was homey in a way Keith never thought his own could be. There were pictures on the wall along with other art and souvenirs from some of the places they had been displayed on various surfaces. An earthy brown knit blanket made of an unnaturally soft yarn was folded at the foot of the bed, accented by pillows in varying shades of blue. Keith didn't know why Lance needed extra pillows even if it had been explained to him. String lights framed the alcove of the bed, set on a voice command system along with a docking station for everyone's phones Hunk had rigged up. Her phone was hooked in, left there to charge while Lance had more tests done. A glance at the hook by the door confirmed she had left her jacket, as well.

Keith tried to ignore the sinking feeling that accompanied seeing those items left behind as he dropped onto the bed. From here the photos Lance had printed from her phone and put up like garlands were easily viewed. There were pictures of the team and all of the people they had met, including selfies with 'fans’ and a few candids from the Voltron Shows. The most bittersweet ones were those of Lance's family, though. 

> A young boy that looked strikingly like Lance smiled at Keith. He was hanging off Lance's neck with a bright smile. A little girl was clinging to Lance's arm on his other side with an equally bright smile. Their eyes matched the ocean behind them.
> 
> “Who are they?” Keith asked.
> 
> Lance's face lit up as he followed Keith's gaze to the picture. He put down the blanket he was knitting and bounced over to Keith.
> 
> “Lucas and Sofia,” Lance answered. “They're Veronica's kids.”
> 
> “Your sister.”
> 
> “Yep.” Lance’s smile turned to Keith like him remembering that one little detail was the best thing in the world. “I spent a lot of time with them while she was working and earning her degree. I was their favorite tio since Luis as at college and Marco was on an army base in Japan where his wife was stationed. That picture is our last trip to the beach before I left for the Garrison.”
> 
> Something indistinguishable changed in Lance's face as he looked at the picture. His expression softened with sadness beneath his smile. Keith didn't know what to do with that sadness. Any reassurance about seeing them again just felt like a lie and anything else he could think of saying didn't feel like enough. So he did what he usually did and acted instead, slipping his hand into Lance's.
> 
> “That seems so long ago,” Lance whispered. When Keith looked over at him there were unshed tears in his eyes. “I wonder if they even remember me.”
> 
> Keith squeezed the hand in his. He didn't like being just a bystander to Lance's sorrow. Hunk or Allura or anyone else would probably know what to say, but that had never been Keith's thing. He knew what was usually said, of course, he just didn't want to give Lance some hollow cliche. Lance was worth more than that.
> 
> “I wish I knew what to say,” he finally murmured. “I'm not really good at this whole comforting thing, but… I’m here if you want to talk or cry on my shoulder or whatever.”
> 
> Some of the sadness receded when Lance looked over at Keith, the shadow of a pensive smile on his lips. With a gentle tug, he pulled his boyfriend to him and nuzzled into his neck.
> 
> “I know,” he whispered before placing a feather light kiss to the curve of Keith's jaw, “and that's enough.”

Keith laid back in the bed, noting how the scent of Lance lingered in the pillows and sheets. It wasn't a scent he could describe other than maybe something warm and citrus tinged with salt and _Lance_. He concentrated on it, letting the smell conjure up memories. For the first time in his life, Keith wished he had taken pictures.

There were plenty of pictures of Lance, of course, but Keith wanted the moments that were just for him. He wanted the quiet times that edged on domestic and the looks reserved specifically for him. He wanted the image of Lance sleeping beside him or spread out for him. He wanted the pictures that felt burned into his mind to be tangible. He had thought just those memories would be enough, but they weren't.

He closed his eyes and could almost convince himself Lance was just in the bathroom, finishing up her nightly skincare routine.

> It had been difficult for Keith to remain available while Lance was avoiding him. The hardened part of him said it was the start of her rejecting him and that he should just slam his walls up to minimize the damage. He refused to believe Lance would do that to him, though, especially considering all they had been through together and shared. So he made himself accessible, spending time where she could find him while not standing too close or staring in case it made her uncomfortable. When they finally did talk, it was well worth his patience.
> 
> “Mierda,” Lance breathed against Keith's shoulder, “you learn fast.”
> 
> Keith couldn't help his satisfied smirk. “Well, I am good with my hands.”
> 
> “Can't argue with that.” Lance let out a dry laugh as she sat up to look into Keith's eyes with a mix of mischief and reverence. She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and leaned forward to take his lips in a kiss, lingering in the afterglow of their explorations.
> 
> “Have I said I’m sorry for avoiding you?” she asked for what had to be the tenth time. Her breath caressed his lips.
> 
> “It might have come up.”
> 
> “Oh, well… good.” She quickly kissed the tip of his nose. “I'm going to get ready for bed.”
> 
> Keith watched her saunter to the bathroom with a fond shake of his head. After a moment, he followed her to quickly clean off and brush his teeth, deftly swatting away a playful attempt to put some sort of goop on his face. It wasn't until he was back in bed that he realized how tired he was. He started to drift off to the sound of her humming in the bathroom, comforted by that assurance that she was close and returning to him. He was nearly asleep when the bed shifted as she slid in beside him, rousing him enough to open his eyes.
> 
> “Feel my face.” Lance took his hand and placed it on her cheek. It was still cool to the touch from the cold water that she had used to rinse it clean. “It's so soft.”
> 
> Keith ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek as he obligingly asked, “New stuff?”
> 
> “Yeah.” Lance turned her head to nuzzle his hand, kissing the palm before moving their hands to rest between them with their fingers interlaced. “Hunk made a mask based on one I liked on Earth to cheer me up. That and, you know, no stubble.”
> 
> She tucked herself against him and Keith took the opportunity to press his nose into her hair. He took in a steady breath, letting her scent cement that she was here and his.
> 
> “Are you smelling me?” Lance's voice held a note of laughter, though she made no attempt to move away from him.
> 
> “Yes.” It was a common enough occurrence that Keith was a bit surprised Lance still asked.
> 
> “Do I smell different?”
> 
> “A little.” Whatever musk defined Lance was lighter and a bit sweeter than it had been, but it was still undeniably Lance. “Still you, though.”
> 
> There was a pause where Lance worried the bottom of her lip with her teeth. He could almost read her thoughts as the doubts and fears similar to his own resurfaced.
> 
> “Still yours?”
> 
> “Yeah,” he breathed into her hair, “for as long as I’m still yours.”

Keith didn't realize he had fallen asleep until the lights came on. The residential areas were all set to a simulated Earth day/night cycle to help the paladins maintain a healthy circadian rhythm and Keith had become accustomed to waking up when they first started to brighten. Normally, he would then weigh the benefits of staying in bed against getting up, but his reason to stay was gone.

The jacket was in Keith's hand before he even realized he had taken it off the hook. He was so used to grabbing his own jacket that the action had been automatic. Before he was able to doubt himself, Keith pulled the jacket on and headed for the bridge.

Pidge was at her station, which Keith had expected. Shiro had resorted to ordering them all to get some rest, but Pidge didn't rest when she had a problem to solve; especially when that problem involved a member of her makeshift family.

“Did you actually sleep?” Keith asked as he came up behind her. On one screen was a map of the system they had unintentionally left Lance in while the other showed a stream of messages being decrypted.

Pidge looked over her shoulder at him. She was holding a mug of the coffee Hunk had devised that Keith suspected wasn't her first.

“Enough,” she replied. If she had any comments about Keith wearing Lance's jacket, she kept them to herself.

Keith raised a skeptical brow. “Enough for what?”

A smug grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Enough to make Shiro happy. You?”

“Enough.” Keith shrugged. He leaned in to get a better look at  her screens. “Find anything?”

She took a sip from her mug before putting it aside in order to free up her hands. “Yeah. So, check this out.” A few taps on the screen had the map zooming in. A series of markers became visible. “I mapped out the inhabited planets in the quadrant then used the Galra Finder algorithm to determine the common Galra activity in the area. I then modified the algorithm to use the communications Matt intercepted in order to isolate the movements of Lotor, his fleet, and any of his supporters. That gave me,” another few taps on the screen eliminated all but a small cluster of markers, “this.”

Keith's blood ran cold at the precision of the cluster. “He knows where she is.”

“Yeah.” Pidge's gaze dropped to her hands as her expression dropped. “I'm really sorry, Keith,” she murmured, “I should have told you and Lance what I found. I just thought that-”

“It's alright.” Keith squeezed her shoulder and offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Everyone was doing what they thought was best. Honestly, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing.” It was probably part of the reason he was as upset as he was. Shiro was supposed to know better than him, to be better than him, but that was unfair to Shiro. He was just as flawed as any of them. Holding onto any of his anger also didn't help Lance any.

Keith crossed the bridge over to the Black Paladin's station.  He usually sat at the red one, but for this black seemed more appropriate.

“I’m calling Kolivan,” he told Pidge.

She gave him a confused look. “Allura already spoke to him, though. The Blade isn't going to risk anything for one person.”

“I know, but the Blade has agents in that area and I’m not Allura.”

Keith didn't acknowledge Pidge's mumbled 'well this should be fun’ as he steeled himself to speak with his former mentor.

* * *

Either Lance had made a friend or she was being watched. She was pretty sure it was the latter. The natives all kept their distance and the locals, a mix of aliens that had either settled here or were stranded, regarded her with distrust and were careful with their words, so having made a friend seemed unlikely. Just getting any information had been near impossible until she had traded some supplies for clothing in shades of blue and gray to drape over her flight suit and mask her otherness. Even then, she had to have an alternate purpose for interactions to avoid suspicion. That had led her to spending her days scavenging for scrap to sell in the market and getting her drinks and meals at one of the local taverns.

The feathered serpent, known locally as a tzacoatl, had been her escort through it all. It watched her, coiled in an outcropping of rubble. Lance figured it was connected to a native, but she wasn't completely sure of their intention. Having it around was beneficial, though, since the natives seemed to give her a wider berth with it around and a few unscrupulous looking locals had been eyeing her until they saw it. Part of her also enjoyed having something to make it seem like she was less alone. She decided she could have made a friend and be being watched so, naturally, she named it.

“Still keeping tabs on me, Jefe?”

She strolled further into the dumping ground that laid at the base of the hill the city was built on. It was the result of a society where everything trickled down, sometimes literally. A shining city of pristine white stones topped the hill ringed by a tall wall. The candy colored buildings outside of the wall spilled from it in a patchwork of materials and architectural styles, becoming more of a shanty town the farther down the hill it went until the buildings were almost indistinguishable from the scrap yards.

Jefe took to the air when Lance passed it, keeping an eye on her from the sky. Behind him, the primary sun slipped behind the hill. The secondary one skirted over the horizon. It never set, at least not in the time Lance had been here. The light and radiation it gave, however, was similar to Earth’s, so Lance could enjoy it. She pushed the hood of her jacket back and closed her eyes as she basked in the feeling of the sun on her face. After her moment of indulgence, she dropped her pack and fished out her flight helmet. It attracted too much attention in the city, but it made scavenging a lot easier.

The display activated as soon as the helmet was on. As she scanned her surroundings, the interface identified the scrap made from materials she had input. She only took enough to fill up the sack she’d purchased at the market and left the rest for the natives who also scavenged this area. The base of the hill seemed to be where they were regulated to and based on what she had heard in the market and taverns, they didn't need her coming in and taking more than she needed.

“Heard anything about the Rebellion?” She yanked some broken device with exposed wires free from the scrap and tossed it into her sack. It was a risk talking to whomever Jefe was watching her for, but it was a calculated risk. Getting in touch with the Rebellion or the Blade of Marmora was probably her best chance at getting back to the Castle of Lions.

Jefe landed on the remains of some sort of vehicle and continued to stare.

“Didn't think so.” She heaved a sigh and went about collecting her day’s haul.

When her sack was full, Lance stashed her flight helmet before putting her hood back up. Before leaving, she placed one of the better items at the base of the vehicle Jefe was perched on for whoever was watching her. It had become a daily offering. Sometimes the item was still where she had left it, sometimes it wasn't, but it felt like the appropriate thing to do. With that ritual complete, Lance headed into the city with Jefe taking wing to follow her.

Lance made her was through the crowd of people in the market to a stall run by an Unilu with dusty gray skin and dark red facial hair. Lance was pretty sure the merchant underpaid, but he bought scrap and their conversations were two way. The only other scrap buyer she had heard of was a native who was said to only deal with other natives. It was completely possible any others had just been muscled out by the the Unilu now eyeing Lance and the items she had brought to sell. He ignored Jefe, who had coiled around one of the stall's posts.

“Fifty GAC,” the merchant finally offered.

“Yesterday would have been at least a hundred.” Lance narrowed her eyes at him. She remembered Coran's stories of ridiculous bartering that started with an offer of pocket lint countered by a first born, but that seemed to be an outdated and impractical ritual. “I’m not going lower than eighty.”

He folded his bottom set of arms and leaned them against the counter, gesturing with his top set as he spoke. “Prices fluctuate, sweetheart. Supply is up and demand is down so people aren’t willing to pay as much and I still need to make a profit; therefore,” he leaned in closer with an arrogant smirk, “fifty GAC.”

Lance leaned in as well, letting her expression mock his. “I know basic economics,” she told him with false sweetness dripping from every word. “I also know you’re going to sell this for at least a hundred GAC no matter what the market is doing.”

He considered her for a moment. “Sixty five and I get to take you out to dinner.”

“Seventy five and I forget you said that.”

The Unilu smirked as he straightened and picked up a piece of scrap to turn in his hands, pretending to examine it. “You know, if you did something with this I could offer more. I bet those slender fingers of yours are great at crafting, among other things.”

He winked and Lance's skin crawled. She was all for some playful flirting, but that was different from being creepy. Yes, her own inability to know when to back off had sometimes caused her to cross the line, but she was working on it. Nevertheless, Lance made a mental note to once again apologize to Allura.

“First, quiznack right off.” Any attempt to play the Unilu’s game was dropped as she did her best to channel Allura, standing straight with her shoulders squared and her chin slightly raised. “Second, seventy five GAC and I’ll consider coming back tomorrow rather than trying my luck at the market down the hill.”

The Unilu chuckled. “Are all females of your species this feisty?”

Without a word, Lance started to collect her items. She was done with him and could figure out some other cover for her information gathering. The extra income was nice, but she was in the privileged position of not really needing it.

“Aw, come on, sweetheart, you know you can't take this to anyone but me. The merchant down the hill is a mute just like the rest of them.”

Lance gestured to Jefe. “I have a tzacoatl.”

It was a pure bluff. Jefe had never done anything aside from stare at her. So when the tzacoatl bridged the gap between them, Lance's breath caught in surprise. It slithered up her arm and nosed into her hood to drape itself around her neck.

A grin formed on Lance's face that was as smug as it was elated while the Unilu scowled in return. He glared at the rainbow feathered creature before turning his ire on Lance.

“The Empire is looking for a human, you know,” he practically spat, “and you're the only one here. I bet they would love to know where you are.”

Lance rolled her eyes. She had planned for this.

“I'm Annunaki,” she lied with just a hint of disgust. Keith had told her all about the human like aliens that had supposedly visited Earth in ancient times. Honestly, Lance had only been interested for as long as it kept the light in Keith's eyes as he rambled. “Besides, aren't they looking for a human Paladin of Voltron? From what I've heard, they are all male. By all means, though, go ahead and waste the Empire's time.”

With the last item stashed away, Lance carefully shouldered the sack so that Jefe was not disturbed. She didn't bother looking back as she walked away, not wanting to give him time or reason to suspect her bluff. Hopefully, he didn't actually know where or how to find her.

“Any chance you’ll actually help me out?” Lance asked the creature across her shoulders as she hopped onto one of the tramways that rattled up and down the hill. The responding stillness caused her to let out a heavy sigh. “I thought you would say that.”

The car was almost empty, giving her time to relax and think. Both were dangerous. She missed her home and her family, both the one on Earth and the one in space. Family was something she had never been without, after all. She always had had her actual family or the friends she made family. Here, she didn't even have acquaintances. Being the only wheel felt so much worse than being the seventh.

As she stepped off the tram, she wondered if she should have just taken the fifty GAC. She probably should have at least just laughed off the comments or ignored them. By not doing so, her pride had cost her time that she could be using to get back to Voltron. It wasn't about her pride, though, it was about her value and she undervalued herself enough without outside help. She also couldn't shake the feeling that male Lance wouldn't have gotten suggestive comments about his fingers or called feisty. He might have been asked to dinner, but even that seemed like it would have been different somehow.

The stalls of the markets towards the bottom of the hill couldn't really be called stalls. They were mostly goods laid out on blankets or in some container made of repurposed materials. The silence was unnerving as the natives went about their business using some form of communication that outsiders were not privy to. A few heads turned toward Lance, but only for a passing assessment. Tzacoatl were scattered around the market along with creatures that looked like a cross between a dog and an iguana that roamed around or lounged in the sun.

One of those creatures was stretched out beside scrap and other raw materials; all neatly arranged on and around a set of tables. It raised its head as she approached, giving a low rumble that brought a native out of the hut behind the stand. They were tall with a solid build and yellow and brown scales that were highlighted by a streak of red.

“I have scrap to sell,” Lance said when it was clear the native was waiting for her to state her purpose. She placed the sack on a clear part of the table, opening it some before stepping back. “Technology grade.”

A raspy hiss just made it to Lance's conscious as the native took a busted handheld from the sack and turned it around in their hands. She wasn't sure if the sound was coming from the native, the iguanadog, Jefe, or somewhere else. It continued as the native examined the other pieces, seeming to look at each even without eyes. It was possible they used echolocation or heat signatures to view the world, though Lance didn't plan on asking.

Eventually, the native raised their head and the world fell away. Jefe’s weight settled across her shoulders like an anchor on the ocean floor as a din rose around her that resonated with the air. Her head swam as her mind sought purchase in this new state of being. Just as the feeling of panic became noticeable, everything settled into a world of energy and thought.

“Sixty GAC,” a voice that wasn't actually a voice offered. It reminded Lance of the Lions’ form of communication and that thought brought her attention to all the other wordless voices in the background. There was an entire market of them.

Curiosity caused Lance to momentarily forget about bartering to look around. She could still see, in a sense, but it was like looking through a filter that made everything drab and faded other than the energy that created bright auras over the natives as it flowed through everything, pooling around the tzacoatl and iguanadogs. Lance realized that energy had to be Quintessence and looked down at her hands. Her aura was even brighter that the natives and marbled with something pure and ancient. A part of her wondered if she was hallucinating.

“No,” the not-voice of the merchant stated with a concept of annoyance almost covering the traces of amusement. “The tzacoatl has simply facilitated your entrance into another layer of the universe. As it is our eyes and voice on the physical plane, so is it yours on the mental one. Now, my offer.”

Lance wished that was more mind blowing than it was. After everything she had seen and done, from going to an alternate reality to her current state, this was just another aspect of the universe.

“Very astute. Now, sixty GAC.”

Lance would prefer eighty, but she was willing to split the difference.

“Seventy is acceptable.”

With that agreement, the physical world rushed back to Lance. It started with the sound and feel of her own body. She could hear the blood in her veins and feel the beating of her heart. Then the outside world came to her from the weight of Jefe around her neck to the distant sounds of the city. Throughout the adjustment, the merchant simply took the items off the table and put a bag of coins in their place.

“Thank you.” Lance took the currency and headed back to the tram. Even if they stiffed her, there probably wasn’t too much she could do about it. The weight felt right, though, and it wasn’t like she was in need of every last coin.

As soon as Lance stepped off the tramway, Jefe wriggled out of her hood and took wing. It didn’t take long for her to lose sight of it among the buildings and bustle of the city.

The cantina she stepped into wasn’t one she had been to before. Light streamed in from an opening in the roof with vines that spilled through it to create a natural curtain. Bare stone walls were complimented by reclaimed wood tables and a large bar that looked surprisingly new other than what looked like words scratched into the finish. The alien behind the bar was a spindly humanoid with metallic skin and a face devoid of any features other than five glowing eyes. The eyes blinked out of sync as Lance ordered.

“I’ll pay for the lady.”

Lance’s heart stopped. She knew that voice. It was the smooth whisper of a predator stalking their prey and signaled the start of a battle of wits that Lance wasn’t sure she could win. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try, however.

“Hello, Lance.” Lotor leaned back on the counter beside her. His pompous smirk harkened back to the first thing anyone had said to Lance on this planet.

_Run, little prey._


	5. Lance the -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance learns what Lotor wants and Zarkon is still a threat, but this is the universe where everything works out fine in it's own way.
> 
>  
> 
> _“Do you know why I need Allura?”_  
>  _“The abrupt question pulled Lance’s focus back to Lotor. Allura was usually his primary objective in between territory grabs or challenging Zarkon and the Galra Empire. Lance didn’t need to think very hard to figure out why that was._  
>  _“Because she’s brilliant, beautiful, and the only prize- I mean bride- worthy of you?”_  
>  _“That is why I want Allura,” Lotor responded with a smirk. “I need her because she is the only being in the universe with Sacred Altean quintessence. That is, until now.”_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not beta read, but I wanted to get it out before Season 5.

For a fleeting moment, Lance thought about running. She knew that Lotor would have guards at the exits, though, as well as a few among the cantina’s patrons. There was a possibility of shooting her way out, the weight of the guns in their holsters a hollow comfort, but that came with too high a risk of bystanders getting caught in the crossfire. That left subterfuge. She cast a bored look at Lotor, letting her eyes drag over him as she tried to not look like herself. Her gender change probably helped the ruse. 

She looked away from his with a dry chuckle. “I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Oh, come now, Lance,” Lotor purred as he shifted so that he loomed over her. “My druids may not be as powerful as my father’s witch, but that are certainly capable of identifying Altean quintessence.”

The bartender placed Lance’s drink in front of her and she swept it up as she turned away from him. “You definitely have me mistaken for someone else.”

She had only gotten a few steps from the counter before Lotor grabbed her arm. He swung her towards him with enough force that the drink fell from her hands to clatter on the floor.

“Do not insult my intelligence,” he growled and while several patrons had turned their attention to them in alarm, none made a move to interfere. Lotor was known and feared enough to do as he pleased. “Even without my druids, you are not changed enough to be unrecognizable.” He took her chin in a gentle hold that contrasted the bruises currently being pressed into Lance’s flesh, turning her face as if admiring the craftsmanship of her features. “I do approve, though.”

A mix of disgust and anger slithered up Lance’s spine to fuel her defiance.  Even without the threat of imprisonment, she wanted nothing to do with the self proclaimed Uniter of the Universe. She had learned her lesson after Lotor’s first betrayal.

“Let me go,” she hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Of course, no need to be so hostile.” Lotor released her and held up his hands in false indication that he meant no harm. “I would simply like to talk.”

“And what if I don’t want to listen?”

“Let me rephrase.” There was a predatory glint in Lotor’s eyes and his fangs flashed in his smile. “I have a proposal for you. You may either listen and possibly be taken to my ship as a guest, or you can continue to be difficult and be taken to my ship as a prisoner.”

He strode over to a nearby table and pulled out a chair, gesturing to it with an expectant look. A smug grin spread across his face as Lance stepped forward, taking the offered seat even as she continued to watch him with wary eyes. Even if she had more options, Lance’s curiosity was piqued enough to convince her to listen. Lotor was always one step ahead of them with convoluted plans that seemed to border on precognant. Any insight would be valuable. She would just have to figure out how to escape so she would get a chance to use it.

“A very wise decision,” Lotor praised as he took the seat across the table. He stopped a passing server simply by catching their eyes and offering a charming smile. “A refill for my companion and a glass of Sahvienyon.  Haliaeetus  Marqaux if you have it.”

Lance mapped the exits as the waiter went to fetch the drinks. Now that she was looking for them, Lotor’s guards were relatively easily to spot. Their clothing was a bit too clean and tailored for the area and they made no effort to hide their interest. She expanded her mental map outward, trying to recall the layout of the streets. The city was a collage of buildings that was easy to get lost in. If she could break away while being escorted to Lotor’s ship, she could probably lose the guards and find somewhere to hide out. From there, she would need to ditch her helmet and any other Altean technology she had on her. Then it would be a matter of figuring out how to get off planet-

“Do you know why I need Allura?”

The abrupt question pulled Lance’s focus back to Lotor. Allura was usually his primary objective in between territory grabs or challenging Zarkon and the Galra Empire. Lance didn’t need to think very hard to figure out why that was.

“Because she’s brilliant, beautiful, and the only prize- I mean bride- worth of you?”

“That is why I want Allura,” Lotor responded with a smirk. “I need her because she is the only being in the universe with Sacred Altean quintessence. That is, until now.”

The memory of her quintessence held together by something ancient and pure manifested at Lotor’s words. It was something she had seen before, healing an entire Balmera and countering the corruption in the druids. She remembered the realization that the odds of ending up Altead were high because Allura was Altean. Quickly, she realized what that all added up to. Lotor’s druids hadn’t identified the Altean quintessence on her; they had identified it  _ in _ her.

A drink was placed in front of her as the server returned. They waited for Lotor to taste his drink and nod his approval before moving off to fill other orders. 

“I did believe Allura was the one in the pod that left the Castle,” Lotor continued, idly swirling his drink before taking another sip. “Given the rarity of her quintessence, it was the most logical conclusion.”

Lance’s brow creased. Something felt off, but she wasn’t able to pin down what. “Then why were you looking for a human?”

“Less questions with a higher chance of success,” Lotor replied as if it was obvious. In retrospect, it was. “Most people are not even aware of what an Altean looks like, but because of your Voltron Shows and your species’ knack for getting involved in things beyond them, they do know what a human looks like. Any humans on this planet were also likely to be looking for the same thing I was.”

“Which turned out to be me,” Lance interjected before absently taking a drink. It was a popular regional drink that tasted vaguely like a vanilla flavored fruit and was somehow more refreshing than water. A part of her hated how familiar the taste was becoming.

“Oddly fortuitously, actually. Allura would never be open minded enough to listen and I do not have much I can offer her,” Lotor lamented with a sigh. “What do you get a woman who wants what cannot exist?”

Lance eyed the exiled prince suspiciously. “And what can you offer me?”

“The Milky Way, of course,” Lotor replied after leaning back with drink in hand. The satisfaction that spread across his face told Lance that she had failed to internalize her surprise. “As well as the honor of becoming one of my generals. You are an unparallelled shot and a brilliant tactician. It always surprised me that your team did not seem to realize that.”

Lance huffed. “Let me guess, you next line is going to be about how they treat me more like a joke or how I am the spare paladin?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort.” 

The smirk he barely attempted to hide by taking another drink said otherwise and Lance felt herself slip further toward the end of her rope. 

“So, what? All this could be mine for the low, low price of my soul?”

Lotor considered her wording before giving his response. “More like the use of your soul. I need a Sacred Altean to access the unlimited quintessence between dimensions and, naturally, every precaution would be taken to ensure your safety.”

“No use to you dead?” Lance asked without a trace of humor.

“In part, but I also care about my generals.” Lotor’s face fell and if Lance didn't know better, she would have actually thought he was opening up. “I never did thank you for helping me process Axca and the other’s betrayal. Even if I understood that they did what they must, it was still a painful time.”

Lance took a drink. She was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to be dealing with Lotor’s emotional manipulation. She just wanted a Hunk-cooked meal and a full night’s sleep curled up with Keith back on Olkarion where she knew she and her team were safe. Then maybe she could process all of the thoughts and feelings that were trying to force their way through the cracks in her composure.

“Just…” she let out a drawn out sigh as she fought against the fatigue that was creeping up on her, “Get to the part where you tell me why I should help you.”

“Because our goals aren’t that different,” Lotor responded easily. “We both want to bring an end to my father’s empire and unite the galaxy.”

“Yeah, aside from the whole dictatorship thing you’re leaving out.”

Lotor shrugged. “Freedom is never free, and it is naive to believe all of these different planets and species could unite under anything less. They would still be allowed to govern themselves, of course, as long as I was given the cooperation I need. Is the Voltron Coalition really that different? Everyone is given a voice, but they know that Voltron has the final say. It is the ultimate weapon, after all.”

Lance scoffed at the idea. “No one is forced to swear loyalty to Voltron and is free to leave the coalition at any time.” Her mouth felt dry, prompting her to take another drink as she reminded herself there was no point to arguing. “You offered me the Milky Way.”

“I did.” Lotor watched her, eyes searching for something. Probably weakness. “Help me and I will consider the Milky Way under your jurisdiction. Rule it, protect it, make it a sanctuary for all I am concerned. It will be yours to do with as you please.”

An echo of something primal screamed in the back of Lance’s mind. It was the same scream that warned of the unknown lurking in the darkness of space or deep water or night. Something else fantasized about being back on Earth and letting the rest of the galaxy sort itself out. There were over 40 billion Earth sized planets in habitable zones of Sun-like stars and red dwarfs within the Milky Way that could be terraformed for refugees to settle, as well. They could move the Voltron Coalition to somewhere safe and nothing would have to change for humanity. Earth would be safe. Lance could see her family. 

Her team would never forgive her.

Her eyes drifted closed and opening them again felt like a chore she only barely managed. She was just so tired. Too tired to be making any decisions.

Too tired to resist.

Realization sent a shot of adrenaline through the haze that had enveloped her mind. It was accompanied by a cold dread that amplified the screaming. It spurred her to draw her gun, acting more than thinking, and press the muzzle to the soft skin under the curve of her jaw.

“No deal.”

The guards were quickly at the ready as the patrons froze in a mix of shock and fear. Lotor’s predatory patience broke into a scowl.

“Are you taking yourself hostage?” he sneered.

“Yep.” Lance stood up slowly, fighting the way her head spun as whatever he had laced her drink with tried to pull her into unconsciousness. “Now let me go or you’re back to Allura being your only source for Sacred Altean quintessence.”

Lotor studied her for a tense moment as he decided whether or not to call her bluff. He finally picked up his glass and waved his guards off. “Let her go. We’ll pick her up once the drug takes full effect.”

The voice in Lance’s mind was clear as she moved toward the door. It told her to run; stay awake and run. As soon as she was through the doors of the cantina, she holstered her gun and listened.The haze chased her, seeping into the edges of her vision as she struggled to just keep moving. The voice grew frantic as something serpentine with a rainbow of feathers darted in front of her. She began to follow it on instinct, dodging people and vehicles that were quickly enveloped by the fog of her mind and turning corners she barely registered. Beyond the feathered serpent, at the end of the tunnel her vision had become, Lance saw a gleam of metal and tuft of white hair heading toward her.

“Shiro,” she managed to call as she stumbled the final distance.

Ryou easily swept Lance into his arms. He cast a look up and down the streets before ducking into a hidden passage where a native was waiting for him. The tzacoatl that had been leading Lance landed on the native's shoulders and looped around their neck so that its head rested on their chest.

“You are safe, little prey,” the tzacoatl cooed with unfocused eyes as the native stepped forward to gently stroke a clawed hand over Lance’s hair. “Thank you for the tributes.”

* * *

 

The universe did not stop needing Voltron just because Lance was gone. Zarkon was still very much a threat, and with Lotor preoccupied, he had started to reconquer planets that he had lost. It had been a cautious expansion at first, but when Voltron had stepped in as Lotor’s forces continuously conceded, things escalated quickly. Then the Galra had revealed a weapon designed to counter trans-reality comet craft and Voltron was not able to save as many of the planets. They refocused their efforts on at least saving the people instead, escorting refugee fleets that the Galra Empire did not let go without a fight.

“Coran,” Shiro called as another fighter broke Voltron’s line of defense and targeted the fleet carrying the refugees, “we need a wormhole to get these ships to safety.”

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” Coran replied over the comm links, “the Castle just doesn’t have enough of Allura’s energy stored.”

Several of the fighters were taken out by the Castle; another was taken down by a barrage of lasers from the fleet. Two seemed to appear for every one brought down, however, and with the battle cruisers keeping Voltron engaged, it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. The ships were far from heavily armed enough to take on a Galra Armada.

“Can we hold them off with four lions?” Pidge asked as she quickly maneuvered Voltron’s shield to block a cannon blast. Keith followed up the move with a sweep of the sword to cut down a wave of fighters trying to use the cannon as cover.

“Not for the time needed,” Coran responded gravely.

Frustration rippled through the Paladins’ mental link. They all knew that four lions would be enough to hold until Lance was able to take over piloting the blue lion. That wasn’t an option, though, so they needed a new plan. 

“Zarkon cannot want to keep the refugees from escaping this badly,” Allura pointed out with a bit of a huff in her voice. “He must be using them to bait us. We need to figure out why.”

“Maybe we’re the bait,” Hunk offered, “and the refugees are the bait for the bait.”

A spark of inspiration lit up through the link as Keith picked up on Hunk’s thought.

“He’s trying to lure Lotor out,” he said. His grip on the Red Lion’s controls tightened as Zarkon’s potential motive clicked into place. “If it looks like both of his opponents are engaged, Lotor might make a move and reveal what he’s been up to.”

It was a flawed theory, but it was the best they had aside from the rumors that Zarkon had lost his mind while his empire blindly followed.

“So let’s give him what he wants,” Shiro decided after several thoughts fired through the mental link. “Let’s call in the Blade and Rebellion to cover the refugee’s escape. Once they’re out of range, we go on the offensive.”

The Red Lion hummed her approval at going on the attack. The feeling echoed the adrenaline in Keith’s veins like a wordless agreement. They were both more than ready to rend and tear whatever stood in the way of reuniting with theirs, after all, and, for now, a proxy would do.

* * *

Lance woke up to the sound of Keith showering. He didn’t bother opening her eyes as he snuggled further into the bed with the hope Keith would join her. It wasn’t uncommon. Keith would get up early to workout or go for a run then shower before slipping back into bed. He’d cuddle up behind Lance and kiss his neck or run calloused fingers over her curves until Lance turned to take his lips. Maybe they would meet everyone for brunch afterwards. The greasier the better to ease Lance’s hangover. She absently thought it must have been a wild night since he didn’t remember any of it.

Reality shifted back into place and Lance woke up. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with everything that had led her here. The memory of fear came through the fog that still clung to her thoughts the clearest followed by a voice telling her to run and Shiro- no, Ryou- like a save point. As her mind settled, Lance sat up. She scanned her surroundings and quickly came to the conclusion that the ship was not one of Lotor’s. At the moment, that was enough.

“Good to see you awake.”

Lance whipped her head toward the voice and instantly regretted it as her brain pounded against her skull. She needed a cafe con leche and a large stack of bacon pancakes to make the pounding stop. A pile of spacon and a mug of space coffee would also be an acceptable, though poor, substitute.

“Here. This will help your body flush the rest of the drug.”

Ryou handed Lance a drink pouch with a bunch of alien script on it in varying font sizes. Lance took it wordlessly and drained the contents as quickly as the lingering nausea would allow. It tasted oddly similar to the orange drink she had only drank when sick growing up.

“Are you hurt?” Ryou asked simply, but gently.

Lance shook her head without raising her eyes to look at the clone. The pressure against her skull was already easing along with the nausea and body aches. Beyond that, she was emotionally exhausted, but that could wait. It had been waiting; a seeping wound that Lance had not had time to address. She had been ignoring it since the crash, though, so she could continue to ignore it.

“Just my pride,” she replied with a forced chuckle. She hoped he didn’t hear just how drained she was. “I should have known he didn’t need to touch my drink to drug it.”

Ryou knelt in front of her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The weight and warmth of it reminded Lance how much she missed contact.

“You got yourself out of there,” he assured. “That is what’s important.”

Lance huffed half of a laugh. “And that I’m lucky you found me.”

Ryou gave her a gentle smile and squeeze of her shoulder. “Sometimes being lucky is a skill of its own, but in this case,” his hand dropped as he stood, “the Blade of Marmora had an operative who just happened to know of someone keeping an eye on a stranger that had fallen from the sky.”

Ryou moved to a panel on the wall across from the bed and pressed it. The panel slid away to show food and water next to medical supplies. 

“Here,” he pulled out a rations bar and tossed it to her. She caught it with minimal fumbling. “Eat that, have some water, and get some more rest. I’m going to let the Rebel base on Dertropyx know we should be arriving soon.”

The crinkling of the ration bar’s wrapped stopped as Lance stopped opening it to give Ryou a confused look. “Is Voltron meeting us there or are we just making a pit stop?”

“They’ll meet us there eventually.” Ryou closed the cabinet and lingered in a moment of consideration. He finally stepped away from the wall, looking very much like the image of a perfect officer Lance remembered the Galaxy Garrison presenting Shiro as. “There’s a battle going on. Zarkon isn’t letting a fleet of refugees escape and Voltron has requested backup to escort the refugees to safety since the Castle is out of Allura’s energy.”

“We’re backup,” Lance was quick to point out. The ration bar was left on the bed as she headed for the cockpit. “This ship has a weapons system, right”?

“Not one that can go against multiple Galra fighters.” Ryou followed her and she let him take the pilot’s seat as she slipped into the co-pilot’s. A few taps and the pilot’s screen appeared. Lance had to wait for the co-pilot’s to be activated. “This ship is designed for fast intergalactic travel. Any weapons are purely defense.”

“Then we get to the Castle and use the defense drones.” Lance waited patiently for her screen to appear, not surprised and only slightly annoyed when it didn’t.

“Your arrival will be a distraction,” Ryou countered.

“Psh, more like a heroic return.” She rolled her eyes and gave him a cocky smirk that was only partially formed by actual confidence. Her team needed her, though, and that was the only thing that mattered.

“No, Lance. I’m not putting you at risk after I just rescued you.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. She resented the implications of that sentence.  “Don’t make me mutiny.”

“You aren’t going to mutiny,” Ryou said with the same look Shiro had whenever his patience with Lance was starting to wear thin. The resemblance was uncanny, though it made perfect sense that Ryou had gotten Shiro’s mannerisms along with his DNA and memories. It was still unnerving in an uncanny valley kind of way.

“I don’t know, Keith has been a pretty bad influence,” Lance pointed out almost conversationally. “I got away from Lotor by taking myself hostage.”

“You what?” Ryou’s look instantly changed to concern laced with shock.

Lance shrugged. She was going to see a lot of that reaction since she had basically threatened suicide. There was a lot to unpack there. At the same time, there really wasn’t. It was no secret that Lance was self-sacrificial. The mottling of pale skin on her back from when she had taken an explosion for someone she barely knew at the time was proof enough of that.

“Turns out I have Allura’s quintessence and Lotor needed me alive to use it,” Lance explained as casually as explaining a gambit in chess. A realization struck. “Wait… I have Allura’s quintessence.”

Ryou’s mind quickly caught up to her line of thought. 

“You can power the teladuv,” he finished for her.

Excitement spread a grin across Lance’s face. It was a ridiculous plan with a lot of variables and probably even more consequences, but it was a plan. With an almost fond shake of his head, Ryou activated the co-pilot’s screen.

“Alright,” he conceded as he began to plot a course, “I guess Operation Heroic Return is a go.”

* * *

Things were getting better as they were getting worse. The Blade and Rebellion had quickly responded to the call for backup, but the Galra just sent more fighters to harry the refugee fleet and keep Voltron close.

“We need to stop playing it safe,” Keith snapped. His frustration ricocheted through the Paladins’ mental link like a wayward bullet.

“We need to get the refugees to safety,” Shiro responded. His voice was firm, inhibiting the spread of Keith’s frustration. “There is an asteroid belt nearby. If we get there, it will provide the ships with extra cover and we can figure out our next move.”

“With the help of the Blade and the Rebellion, four lions may be enough to hold them off until I can open a-”

Allura was cut off by the formation of a wormhole. It blossomed into being in the refugee’s path, just large enough for the ships to fit through. Everyone held their breaths as the idea of an ambush echoed through the mind meld, but the tense moment eased with the appearance of Coran on the screen.

“Coran, what's going on?” Shiro asked.

“Nothing to worry about, really,” Coran responded with a brief glance over his shoulder. He adjusted the screen and a ripple of surprise and worry and excitement went through the Paladin’s mental link. It was accented by a sharp pang of longing that no one needed to wonder the source of. “Another source of Allura’s energy presented itself.”

There, standing on Allura’s platform with her hands on the controls, was Lance. Her eyes were closed as if meditating, but the line of her mouth and pinch of her brow showed she was not relaxed. The desire to call out to her was snuffed within the Paladins mental link as soon as it had formed.

Ryou stepped onto the screen, close enough that he blocked the view of Lance in an entirely purposeful way.

“Focus on the battle,” he reminded them. “We'll handle things here.”

There was a silent promise in his words. A promise to protect Lance, from herself as much as anything else. 

“The Blade and Rebellion are covering the refugees,” Ryou continued. “You just need to take out those cruisers.”

The feed into the Castle turned off and everyone felt a new sense of urgency to end the battle.

“Alright, you heard me,” Shiro said to put words to the shift to offense. “Let’s take them out.”

* * *

It was quiet. The kind of quiet of the ocean beneath the waves, with a far off rumble of something unknown, and a rushing, popping din. Muted sounds broke the surface, only recognizable as voices from their lilt and tone. She ignored them to focus on steadying the flow of energy from herself to the Castle, following Coran’s warning to not let the quiet take everything from her.

He had protested her plan. The battle taking up the viewports and screens had quickly changed his mind. There had still been worry in his voice as he told Lance that all she needed to do was place her hands on the receptors and not let the Castle take everything from her. He could handle the technical things. He had watched warily as she stepped onto the platform and Lance could almost see the worry lines of her father.

The quiet demanded her attention back as it threatened to drain her quintessence, Altean and not. It gaped before her with a hollowness that would never be sated. She was a river trying not to flow into the ocean; a human with no training trying to harness something far more powerful and dangerous than the fire that had brought her ancestors out of the dark and razed their homes time and time again.

The quiet was slowly winning. She was tired and hungry and there were far too many cracks to keep herself from drowning. Just when it seemed she would slip away, however, strong arms were sweeping her back, away from the yawning expanse and into a darkness that was much more familiar.

* * *

This time, Keith was there to catch Lance when she came out of the healing pod. She fell into his arms and when she looked up, the softness in his eyes and smile triggered the flicker of a memory. There was no shyness this time, though, or questions as to what they really meant to one another.

“Hey,” she murmured.

“Hey.”

Hearing Keith’s voice was like coming home. As her lips curved into a mirror of his smile, he leaned down to take them. Everything fell away and Lance melted against Keith, letting his proximity ease away the pressure of all the thoughts and feelings she had pushed down into order to make it to this moment. She knew that as long he was here, no matter what happened, she at least had a partner to watch her back and share her struggles.

The kiss broke at the sound of the door opening shortly followed by Allura’s gasp.

“Your ears,” the Altean exclaimed. She reached out for a brief moment as if tempted to touch them before remembering herself and pulling her hand back to her chest. “They’re adorable.”

“What?” 

Lance stood up and ran her fingers over the shell of her ear. Her heart jumped into her throat and her eyes snapped from Allura to Keith in bewilderment as she felt the tip. Her mind finally registered that he looked different, or rather that her vision was different. Everything was more defined and brighter, like looking through a clean window that she had never realized was dirty. Her attention whipped back to Allura for answers to find the Altean at the center console. The mice curiously watched her from where they had scurried onto the console as she brought up a video feed along with strings of text.

“It appears that your body has accepted the Altean energy in your system,” Allura explained. She turned the screen so that Lance was looking at herself. “You are part Altean,” she finished with thinly veiled wonderment.

Lance stared at herself in shock. For the most part, she still very much looked like herself. Her eyes were still blue and her hair a rich brunette, but her tan skin was adorned with a white crescent mark on each cheekbone where the pigment appeared to have been drained away. Her ears were also slightly pointed, though not as prominently as Allura’s or Coran’s. Her eyes also had that otherworldly iridescence that made Altean eyes seem illuminated.

Lance thought that she shouldn’t be so surprised. The possibility had been there; Slav had even given exact percentages. Being faced with the reality, though, was not something she probably could have ever been prepared for. Her parents were human, after all, and her siblings and grandparents and every generation of her family. What did it mean if she wasn’t?”

Keith’s hand slipping into hers pulled her from her thoughts. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Well I, for one, welcome my new part Altean space ranger partner.”

His words drew a weak laugh past Lance’s lips. She turned into him and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” she murmured. It didn’t feel like the big confession she had thought it would be, just a simple voicing of something they both already knew.

Keith wrapped his arms around her and pressed his nose into her hair. Her scent had once again changed a bit, but it was still the person he had come to rely on for comfort and support and acceptance and all of the things he never thought he would find. It was still Lance.

“I love you, too.”

Allura lightly cleared her throat to remind them of her presence. “I’ll go tell the others you are awake. Should I tell Hunk you will be joining us for dinner? He was getting ready to prepare something called spaghetti and meatballs when the mice told me you were awake.”

The mere mention of food caused a pang of hunger. The mention of Hunk and joining the team for dinner caused a pang that wasn’t entirely different. It was a hollow feeling she had become familiar with since leaving Earth.

“Yeah.” She turned to face Allura, but stayed tucked against Keith’s side with his arm securely around her waist. There was an unspoken fear shared between them that if he let her go, they would wake up.

“Are you sure?” Keith asked with that look he got when really asking if she was treading water or drowning. Lance loved that look.

“I’ve spent enough time alone,” Lance replied, though her voice was smaller and more worn than was completely assuring. “I want to have dinner with my family.”

“I’ll ask Hunk if he has any of that ice cream you are fond of for dessert,” Allura offered with a sparkle in her eyes. She extended her hand to the mice so that they could run up her arm to perch on her shoulder before leaving to report back to the rest of the team.

Once the door shut, Keith pulled Lance into another kiss, taking his time with this one in order to reacquaint himself with the feel of her lips and tongue and the comforting weight of her body against his.

“Your ears  _ are _ adorable,” Keith murmured when their lips parted. He caressed her cheek, his thumb skirting over the pigmentless crescent. 

“All of me is adorable,” Lance teased in response and smiled against Keith’s lips when he pressed them back against hers.

* * *

“What does it mean to be human?”

It took a moment for Keith to realize the question hadn’t been in a dream. The voice was familiar, but also male. As he blinked into blurry eyed consciousness, the silhouette of broad shoulders that tapered to narrow hips appeared. Without any hesitation, Keith sat up and draped himself over Lance with his arms loosely wrapped around him and his chin resting on Lance’s shoulder.

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Keith answered after stifling a yawn. “Part Galra, remember?”

Lance huffed.”That doesn’t make you any less human- Oh.”

“No, go ahead, finish what you were saying,” he prompted with false sweetness and an impish grin. He didn’t need to see Lance’s face to know he was pouting.

“Being part Galra doesn’t make you any less human,” Lance continued like he a child being forced to recite some lesson he’d been told far too many times. “You’re still you and being Galra is just another part of being you.”

He turned to look at Keith, a mischievous smirk the only warning before he flopped onto Keith, effectively pinning him to the bed. He adjusted until he was comfortable between Keith’s legs with his hands folded over Keith’s chest for his chin to rest on. It was mesmerizing how his eyes glimmered in the dark.

“No comment on the man thing?” He asked in the overly casual way that implied he was scared of the answer.

“That’s just another part of you being you,” Keith assured. He ran his fingers through Lance's hair and let himself relax into the moment. “Did you wake up like this?”

“Yeah,” Lance sighed. He closed his eyes and leaned into Keith’s touch like an affectionate cat. “Allura said Alteans present according to how they feel, so I guess I’m just feeling masculine.”

Keith didn't feel a need to provide a response. He knew that sometimes Lance just needed to talk. There also wasn't much to say. No matter what, Lance was Lance.

“Maybe my body is just changing back to what I was assigned at birth,” Lance sighed after a moment.

“You know I’ll love you either way.”

“I know.” Lance carefully moved up Keith’s body to brush his lips against Keith's. “Maybe that's what it means to be human, just loving and being loved.”

“Lance,” Keith breathed as he admired the person above him who had become so integral to his happiness and well being, “that was really sappy.”

Lance laughed and to Keith it was like hearing his favorite song. “Shut up, we’re having a bonding moment.”

Keith’s eyes flashed playfully as he tangled his fingers into Lance’s hair, lifting his head up to nip at the curve of his jaw. “Then how about we make sure you don’t forget it?”

“You know, I was having a perfectly good late night brooding session,” Lance lamented, even as he adjusted so that he and Keith fit together just right.

“That’s my thing.” Keith rolled his hips upwards, delighted by the small catch of breath the movement earned him. “Let’s do a you thing.”

* * *

“Alright now, easy does it.” Coran hovered behind Lance, fretting over every little thing as he instructed Lance in piloting the Castle. A few times his hand even twitched as if resisting the urge to hit some imaginary brake. “We want to keep everything nice and steady.”

“Relax, Coran,” Lance attempted to assure, knowing it would have little to no effect, “neither Blue or Red have ever had a problem with my piloting skills.”

“I have,” Keith interjected with a hand in the air.

“Oo, same,” Pidge added as she enthusiastically raised her hand and gave it a few waves for good measure. “Like, a hundred times the same.”

Hunk meekly raised his own hand. “Yeah, sorry, buddy. I have confidence in you, but I also have experience.”

“The Castle also isn’t anything like the lions,” Allura reminded them. “It is a machine, not something you have a relationship with that can correct your mistakes or ignore a bad command. You are doing wonderfully, though. Maybe just lighten your touch on the controls a little, and make sure to check your screens.”

Shiro shook his head in amusement and mercifully stepped forward. “Alright, everyone, let’s just let Coran teach. We should actually be using this time to do some training ourselves. We did well in Lance’s absence, but there is definitely room for improvement.”

His suggestion was met with a chorus of groans even as everyone moved to their ziplines. Lance looked over at Keith just as the door to Red’s hangar was sliding open. Keith winked at him, triggering a burst of affection that warmed Lance’s chest.

“Ah, watch your speed,” Coran advised with a chuckle in his voice. “If we’re going to progress to landing by the time we reach our destination, you are going to have to stay focused.”

Lance quickly compensated for the slight uptick in his acceleration before asking, “What destination?”

Through the viewport, the Lions launched. Lance checked the screens that relayed their locations and concentrated on keeping the Castle steady as the Lions swooped around it like dolphins playing in the wake of a boat.

“The beach on Geskyria, of course,” Coran responded. He twirled his mustache mischievously with a conspiring grin. “Keith has been asking about a planet with a beach for quite some time now. It wasn’t until recently that we all figured out why. So Hunk and Pidge asked around and scoured the archives while you were recovering. They found Geskyria, a fascinating planet that’s mostly ocean with the exception of some scattered islands perfect for a much deserved holiday.”

“A beach?” Lance felt a lump rise in his throat. Keith had found a beach for him. Well, Keith had gotten the others to find a beach for him, but that still counted. “Like surf, sand, and sun?”

“Plus a variety of edible fruits and wildlife according to Hunk,” Coran confirmed, “he was very excited for something he called a bonfire.”

Lance laughed then immediately caught himself and refocused on piloting the Castle. Even as he did, though, an idea flitted through his mind and he quickly latched onto it.

“Coran, do you think you could help me find something once we’re in orbit?”

“I suppose, depending on what it is.”

The Red Lion spiraled in front of the viewport and Lance smiled at the thought of Keith showing off for him. His eyes flicked over the screens to make sure there weren’t any comm lines open before he spoke.

“Nothing much,” he told Coran as casually as he could while the very idea of what he wanted it for made his heart beat wildly in his chest. “Just a ring.”

Coran rubbed his chin as he ran through his mental inventory of the Castle. “Well, there are quite a few in the royal jewelry collection that I am sure Allura wouldn’t mind parting with. What do you need it for?”

Lance shrugged. “Just a human thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to Hades Puppy for being my beta reader.
> 
> Comments fuel my creative process. I'm also up for answering questions on this universe and the headcanons that go with it. If you want to chat you can find me over at Tumblr at [Xirayn](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xirayn).


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